


Daybreak

by acme146



Series: Fiddle of Gold [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, British Men of Letters Being Assholes, Falling In Love, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secrets, Trauma Recovery, season 12 au, weird relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 33,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: AU of Season 12. Rescued by Lucifer from Lady Bevell and her henchlady, Sam is reunited with his family. But there's still trouble to be had, and the most confusing part of all is Lucifer's behaviour.





	1. Prologue

            “Are we agreed?” 

            The first choice he could make in ages, and it was a strange one indeed. But he’d always liked a challenge.

            “Very well. How will I know when it’s over?”

            “I’ll let you know.”

            “That’s not exactly comforting.”

            “It’ll be crystal clear, I swear.”

            “Fine.”

            “Well? You’d better get going.”

            “I’m not sure where he is.”     

            “I’ll send you to him. Go, and my best wishes go with you.”

            “Are they for me or for him?”

            “Both of you.”

            And with that, there was a flash of light brighter than any human could bear.

* * *

 

            “Are you really going to make me do this?”

            Sam stared back at the woman with the blowtorch. Inside he was panicking just a bit—his feet were sensitive, always had been—but he wouldn’t let her see that. It was pointless, really.

            However much this was about to hurt, nothing could touch the agony inside him, so powerful it was almost numb.

            “Screw you.”

            The woman sighed, and moved the blowtorch close to his foot…

            And the door at the top of the stairs flew open, and Pantsuit came flying down the stairs. She cried out when she landed on her shoulder.

            Sam looked up in shock.

            The woman with the blowtorch jumped to her feet, but she was thrown against the far wall. The blow torch rolled away, turned off.

            Sam could hardly breathe as a blond man he recognized all too well came down the stairs. But it couldn’t be. The Darkness…hadn’t she destroyed him?

            “Sam, Sam, Sam,” Lucifer drawled. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”


	2. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is confused by his rescuer.

            “How?” Sam asked. He couldn’t think beyond that.

            “Long story,” Lucifer replied. He wrinkled his nose at the two women. “Stay down, ladies. Really.” He turned back to Sam. “Why are you all wet?”

            “Cold shower,” Sam replied.

            Lucifer laughed. “No, seriously. Are you…you are serious. Were they trying to _torture you?_ Didn’t you tell them—I mean, didn’t they know?”

            “I told them right off the bat. Nothing doing.” It was starting to sink in now through the painful numbness. Lucifer was right in front of him. And Sam was helpless.

            Lucifer snapped his fingers before Sam could even brace himself. Instead of blinding agony, he actually felt some mild relief.

            His hands suddenly free, Sam felt his leg. It was healed.

            “Get up, and let’s go.”

            Oh, so the pain was going to happen later. “You always did like a clean slate,” Sam mused as he got to his feet. His hair was still dripping.

            Lucifer shook his head. “I’m taking you home.”

            Sam laughed. It didn’t really sound like one. “Sure.”

            “I know. I surprise myself sometimes. Let’s go.”

            “Who the hell are you?” Pantsuit asked.

            Lucifer lifted her up. “I’m the Devil,” he said, eyes flashing red. “And it seems you’ve been insulting my work. What do you think, Sam? Should she die?”

            The woman blanched, all of her confidence gone. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t…”

            “I was asking Sam,” Lucifer clarified, shaking her.

            “I have a son. He’s only five. Please…”

            Sam hesitated. “Tell me what’s happening.”

            “My name is Toni Bevell. What I told you about the Men of Letters is true. The higher-ups don’t like the way American hunters have been running things.”

            “Too bad.”

            “I was sent to negotiate.”

            Sam wiped his wet hair out of his face. “This is how you negotiate? I really don’t want to see you at war.”

            “That’s what you will see if this effort fails.”

            “Then you better make sure it doesn’t.” Lucifer released Toni. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You will return to your headquarters, you and your Cro-Magnon assistant here. You do your absolute best to convince them to leave America the hell alone, and quit your genocidal nonsense.”

            “Are you mad? They’ll never listen!”

            “Then you’d better work smarter, not harder.” Lucifer shook his head. “Go on, get out of here.” He didn’t wait for the two women to move; he just grabbed hold of Sam, and snapped his fingers.

            The world rushed around him, and Sam found himself standing on the road outside the Bunker. The Impala was coming out of the garage.

            Dean was at the wheel.


	3. Reunions and Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is with his family, and someone leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I meant this chapter to go out yesterday, but...I forgot. Don't worry, the next chapter will still be out on Saturday.

            Sam couldn’t breathe.

            “There, see. You’re home.”

            Sam swung at Lucifer with all the strength he could muster.

            The archangel ducked just in time. “What the fuck, Sam?!”

            “You motherfucking jackass! How goddamned low are you willing to sink?”

            “What?” Lucifer caught his hands. The Impala stopped behind them, and Sam heard the doors open. He turned and saw not-Dean—couldn’t be Dean, Dean had blown up—and Cas (was he captured too, or was this a not-Cas?) get out.

            And a blonde woman Sam could only remember from dreams and pictures got out.

            He stumbled, nearly falling against Lucifer. The archangel held him up stubbornly.

            “When are you going to stop, Lucifer?” Sam asked. He knew he was crying, but he couldn’t care. Lucifer knew his reactions better than he knew himself.

            “Sam…this isn’t me. I didn’t do this.” Lucifer spun him around. “Look at them. That’s your family. They’re safe. Got to admit, I’m surprised about Mommy too. Didn’t realize Auntie was so insightful.”

            “Sammy.”

            Sam stared at his—no it couldn’t be his brother. Dean was _dead_ , God was _dead,_ it was his fault, all his fault.

            But no one said ‘Sammy’ the way Dean did.

            Sam couldn’t even look at the other two, couldn’t register the fact that there were _two_. “What happened?” he croaked.

            “Amara and Chuck made up. I convinced them to talk and they…they forgave each other. Amara decided not to destroy the world. And she…she wanted to thank me, and she gave…she gave…” Dean didn’t finish. He was smiling, there was a light in his eyes that Sam had never seen.

            Sam looked over his shoulder at Lucifer. “You’re not…you’re not doing this?”

            Lucifer rolled his eyes and pushed him towards Dean. Sam stumbled, still expecting pain in his leg, but Dean caught him, and pressed his thumb against Sam’s palm. “Come on, Sammy. Believe in me.”  

            “Dean?”

            “Yeah, Sammy. It’s me.”

            Sam threw his arms around his brother and held him as tight as he could. “I’m sorry.”

            “Alright, buddy. Alright. You’re okay.” Dean pulled back for a second. “Wait, are you okay? Why are you all wet? And there was blood—”

            Sam shook his head. “Tell you in a minute.” He was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold water.

            “Sam?”

            Sam looked up in shock. Her voice was just as it had been in the house all those years ago, when she’d appeared as a ghost. “Mom?”

            “Hi, Sam.” His mother—his _mother—_ was smiling at him. She reached out tentatively, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my gosh, you’re so tall…”

            He was terrified that if he touched her, she would vanish, but Sam reached out to her too. Their hands touched. She was _alive_.

            His mom yanked him towards her and hugged him tight. Sam buried his face in her hair, trying to ground himself, but it was too much, everything had been happening so fast—the Sun, the Brits, Lucifer—

            That thought made him spin around. The archangel was watching them, a disinterested look on his face. Sam didn’t trust that, though, and he kept himself between Lucifer and his mom.

            “If this is real, why would you bring me back?”

            “And how are you in this vessel?” Cas asked. The angel had his blade out.

            Lucifer sighed. “I woke up in it. After Auntie dearest threw me out of you, little brother, I went on quite the journey. When I woke up, I was in this vessel, but it feels different. It fits better than it used to. As for you, Sam…well. I think you know why.”

            Sam remembered their conversation in his room two days ago. _Two days…_

            “So now what?”

            “Well, I’m not going to L.A. to solve crimes, but I think I’ll just go travel for a while. There’s no place in Heaven for me, and I still don’t have the strength to get to another galaxy. Not that I want to, anyways. There are some weird ones Dad’s trying to keep you monkeys away from.”

            “And you think we’ll just let you go to—to wreak havoc on humanity?” Cas snorted. “I don’t think so.”

            “I can’t hurt humans. That protection’s still in place.”

            “Sure it is.”

            “Don’t believe me?” Lucifer was suddenly in Sam’s face. He swung his hand, and Sam braced himself for the blow, but it didn’t land. In fact, the archangel’s hand stopped an inch from his face. Lucifer was clearly putting effort into the blow, but it didn’t land.

            “Chuck protected the two of us,” Sam snapped, trying to hide his shock. “How do we know that it applies to anyone else?”

            Lucifer shrugged. “Good point.” His blade appeared in his hand. “She’s new, isn’t she?” Before Sam could blink, he swung the blade at Mom.

            Mom ducked, but there was no need. The blade fell from Lucifer’s hand before it got in range. “See?”

            “That’s handy.”

            “Says you.” Lucifer sighed. “I know you don’t want to believe this, but I’m…I’m kind of done, Sam. Talking to my father helped and I just want to—I just don’t want to go back to the Cage.”

            “I don’t blame you,” Sam retorted. He bit his lip. “If you do anything, we’ll come after you.”

            “Then I guess I’d better not do anything. Does making flowers grow back count?”

            Sam glanced at Cas.

            “That would be fine,” Cas said. “Lucifer…did you speak with Father again?”

            “I think so, for about two seconds. Someone trapped me in this monkey suit, didn’t they?”

            “Is he coming back?”

            Lucifer tilted his head. “I don’t know. I think so, though. No point staying away, right?”

            Cas nodded, but he didn’t look satisfied. “Stay in touch…brother.”

            “Will do!” Lucifer saluted. “See you…well, hopefully not for a while.” He vanished.

            Sam took a deep breath.

            “What the fuck was that?” Dean was staring at Sam. “Who the Hell was that, and what did he do with Lucifer?”

            “Lucifer?” Mom repeated. “What do you mean, _Lucifer?_ What’s going on? Sam, who did that to you?”

            Sam took his mother’s hand. “Come on, Mom. I’ll explain everything. Well, everything I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	4. Demons and Thrones and Witches, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The MacLeods receive an unexpected visitor, with some unexpected behaviour.

Rowena wasn’t expecting any visitors.

When the sun rose, she’d said a hasty goodbye to Sam and Castiel, uncomfortable with their grief. Fergus had left without saying goodbye, so she supposed she was one up on him, at least. Then she was off, back to one of her cottages.

She had her own grieving to do.

Clio and the others had come to her aid, and she’d seen potential there, the possibility of a Coven at last. But Amara’s ricochet had burned them all, and it was by the smallest margin that she hadn’t been killed too.

Or…

For a brief second as the spell charged through her body, she’d felt another presence—another force, directing the worst of the magic away from her. It was familiar, that one. She’d felt it just before he’d snapped her neck…

“You still holding a grudge about that, Red?”

Rowena whirled, hands raised to curse, but the blonde man held up his hands. “Relax, please? It’s me.”

“Lucifer?”

“Yup. This was my original vessel.”

“I thought that was Samuel.”

Lucifer tensed. “No. I wore this man—Nick—until Sam said yes.”

“Right.” Rowena took a step back. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

His honesty rang in his voice. Rowena had heard him lie, and lie so well she’d been fooled. This time, she recognized the truth.

“What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know.” That was the truth, too. “You don’t feel as wrong as everyone else.”

Rowena was shocked, to say the least. “What do you mean?”

“Everybody else doesn’t fit. It was like that even…even ages ago. Now I know I’m a freak, but that doesn’t make it even easier.”

“If you stopped killing people maybe it would be easier to find a book club,” Rowena suggested.

“A touch, I do confess it.”

“Shakespeare?”

“A little. He’s funny. He understands the failings of humanity better than any other human.”

Rowena considered him. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now what?”

Lucifer…hesitated. Actually hesitated. “I got this for you.”

He drew a necklace from his pocket. The silver chain was carved with protective runes, the gems attached worth a fortune, both in money and in magic.

“I figured it would be a good reminder for me not to underestimate you. And a trophy for you.”

Rowena took the necklace from him and traced the runes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

When she looked up Lucifer was closer to her, still far enough away that she could vanish in a second.

“What is it, Lucifer? Cat got your tongue?”

“I think you’re attractive. Not just your body, but your power. I’ve never seen someone stand up to me like that.”

“The Winchesters—”

“Not the same way. Not to mention that I’m not attracted to either of them. You can protect yourself from me. You don’t need me.”

“I thought I did.”

“I couldn’t believe that,” Lucifer said. “I saw you in those dreams _trembling_ with a need for power, and I didn’t see why. I used that, of course, but Rowena… you hold the world at your fingertips. It’s not the way most people think of power, but you’ve made the Devil—”

He cut himself off.

Rowena stepped forward, feeling braver. “What have I made the Devil?”

“You’ve…” Lucifer touched her cheek. “Damn it, you’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve made me tame.” And he pulled Rowena into a desperate kiss.

Rowena had lived for three hundred years. She knew how to hold her breath, but even she had to draw away. Lucifer’s hands were tangled in her hair, holding desperately like she was going to fly away.

“I don’t understand,” she gasped out.

“Neither do I.” Lucifer pulled her close to him, close to danger and power and something else, something Rowena couldn’t define. “I don’t understand why I’m so drawn to you, or why I feel the way I do. I just know that—that after you died, it felt like it did when I killed Gabriel. Like I’d lost a chance to be happy. And now I—I have you back, Rowena.”

Rowena let him hold her as she thought. The Devil in her arms felt different than before. There was something softer in him, quieter, especially when he said her name.

“You can’t hurt me, can you?”

“Not anymore. You’re human enough that Dad’s prohibition holds. Unless you…want to be hurt?”

“Not at all. I’m on the opposite side of things.”

“Fair enough.” Lucifer stroked her hair. “I don’t want you to do anything for me Rowena—well, I do—I mean I have no agenda. I just—I want to be with you.”

“Well then, who am I to turn you down?” Rowena asked sarcastically.

She looked up and saw Lucifer’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean—I don’t want to make you do anything—”

“Hush.” Rowena put her hand over his mouth, astonished when he quieted. “I understand. And I think that could be interesting.”

Lucifer smiled under her hand, and it was a real smile. For a second, Rowena caught a glimpse of the Morning Star, and was dazzled.

But she still thought clearly.

“I’m not swearing eternal allegiance or anything,” she said. “And my son—you have to back off.”

“Done,” Lucifer said instantly. “Do I tell him why?”

“No. That’s our secret.” Rowena’s blood was singing. “Well, Lucifer? Do we have a deal?”

Lucifer’s kiss answered her.

 

Crowley was starting to hate his job.

Now his stupid demons were even more unruly than usual. Which, to be fair, was reasonable. When he was a ‘punk-ass crossroad demon’, to quote his ex, he’d believed in Lucifer. He also would have jumped on any sign of weakness.

The fight with the Darkness had taken a lot out of him, more than he wanted to admit. He slumped—just a little bit—into his throne. He needed a grand gesture, something to prove to every sorry Demon in Hell that he was the bloody King.

Thunder rumbled through Hell.

Crowley blinked. Had he summoned that himself?

**_Demones inferni, audite._ **

The Latin rattled through his vessel, piercing into his very being. He gripped the arm rests of the throne.

**_Crowley, Rex inferos sedeat in solio, et per verbum imperium diaboli. Probabit fidem et imperata **[1]**. _ **

**_Ego Diaboli._ **

Crowley didn’t doubt it. That was Lucifer’s voice, alright, he’d known it from the very first word. But why? Why had the Devil changed his mind?

Suddenly the room was full of demons, some in vessels, some not. They were all kneeling.

“Hail to the King!” one shouted.

“HAIL!”

It was like all of Hell was cheering for him. Crowley felt a surge of power as every demon in Hell pledged their loyalty to him. He’d never felt so strong.

Crowley nodded to the kneeling demons, every inch of it magisterial, and glanced at his phone. There was a text from Dean.

_Lucifer’s gone neutral._

Crowley smiled. It felt good to be the King.

 

[1] Demons of hell, listen. Crowley, King of Hell sits on the throne, by the Devil's Word. Prove your loyalty, obey his commands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm gonna set up a reminder to make sure I post the chapters on the right day, my apologies.   
> But yes, in this world Lucifer actually likes Rowena. I'm not saying this isn't messed up. It's messed up. But they're messed up people, so I suppose that you'll just have to see if they can make it work!  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	5. Of Course You Realize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prank war begins, but there's a more serious conflict on the horizon.

            Sam’s alarm went off and he bolted awake.

            But something was wrong, because it was pitch dark in his room.

            He groaned when he looked at the clock. 3AM; he definitely hadn’t set it for that early.

            Sam got up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and went to the kitchen. He got a large bowl, filled it with water and several ice cubes, tiptoed back down the hall, put it right outside a certain door, and went back to his room. He reset his alarm for 9; didn’t want to miss the fireworks.

            They came at 9:15.

            _“Sammy!”_

“You started it!” Sam called, his head still under the pillow.

            Dean started banging on the door. “You got my fucking slippers wet!”

            “You set my alarm for 3 A.M.”

            “Alright you two, knock it off.”

            Sam’s heart jumped. Mom.

            It was still strange to realize she was there, _really_ there. But every morning for the last two weeks, she was there—exploring the Bunker, trying to connect with some hunter families she’d known while alive, learning about technology.

            And now, apparently, getting involved with their prank war.

            Well, prank skirmish. There’d only been one exchange.

            “It’s way too early for this. Sam, are you going to clean up the water?”

            “Yes Mom.”

            “Alright. Dean, put your slippers by the oven, they’ll dry in no time. And _no pranks during breakfast, got it?_ ”

            “Yes Mom,” Sam and Dean chorused together.

            “Alright. Cas has already got bacon going, so come on.” Mom rapped on the door again and went down the hall.

            “Sammy?” Dean whispered.

            “Yeah?”

            “After breakfast?”

            “Open war.”

* * *

 

            Breakfast was bacon, fruit (Mom was delighted by the choices of fruit you could have now that didn’t come in a can), and some of Dean’s pancakes. Sam was a bit suspicious of his stack, but they tasted fine.

            “What are your plans for the day, Mom?” Sam asked.

            “I think I might get some shooting practice in. What about you?”

            “I’m going to do some more research.”

            “On the limeys?” Dean asked.

            Sam tensed. “Yes.” The woman—Lady Bevell, as he knew now—had mentioned a large-scale plan, and they had to be ready.

            “Need any help?”

            “Not right now. I’m still trying to hack into their system, but they have different security than we do.” Sam took a bite of pineapple and nearly spat it out.

            “Wow, uh…”

            “What’s wrong, Sam?” Dean took a bite and did spit it out.

            Their mother looked nervous. “Did I do something wrong? I thought you were supposed to wash fruit!”

            “Not pineapple,” Dean explained slowly. “And you don’t…you don’t usually do it with soap.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry!” Mom traced the table.

            Sam was about to reassure her, but he recognized the look—eyes firmly down, a smile pulling at her lips.

            “Dean, I think Mom wants to participate in the prank war.”

            Dean blinked, and Mom and Cas burst out laughing.

            “What gave it away, Sam?” Mom asked as she wiped her hands.

            “You didn’t wash the bananas,” Sam said.

            Dean glared at their mom. “Alright then. You know we don’t take any prisoners.”

            “Except hair,” Sam reminded him.

            “And Baby,” Dean confirmed.

            “That I can do. Cas, you in on this?”

            “No!” Sam and Dean said together.

            “I don’t participate in prank wars,” Cas explained as he took Dean’s dish. “I find them childish.”

            “No, he was banned because of angel mojo,” Dean argued.

            “Whatever you say, Dean.” Cas patted his head. “If that’s the narrative you like.”

            Whatever Dean was about to do to Cas was interrupted by a ringing phone. But it wasn’t a modern ringtone—it sounded like a bad sound effect from a soap opera.

            Sam got up, hand going to his belt. “Someone needs to stay here.”

            It was Dean who stayed behind as Sam, Mom, and Cas followed the sound down the hall.

            A telephone stood in the library that had never had a dial tone. Sam had seen references to this phone a few times in older documents, but with no modern connection, it hadn’t seemed useful.

            But who knew how long Lady Bevell had been waiting in the Bunker?

            “Sam?” Mom asked.

            Sam reached out and picked it up. “Sam Winchester speaking. Who is this?”

            “Not the most polite way to answer a phone call.”

            “Pantsuit!” Sam hoped his sarcasm carried on the crackling line. “How’s it going? Are you following instructions?”

            “That’s why I’m calling. To…report, I suppose.”

            “Yeah, well, Lucifer’s not here.”

            “He isn’t coming this way, is he?”

            The fear in the woman’s voice was unmistakeable, and Sam remembered she had a young son.

            “I don’t think so,” Sam said, a bit more gently. “He’s off doing…something.”

            “So he’s not under your control?”

            “I don’t know if you’ve grasped the concept of _archangel_ yet, but—”

            “No, I mean—he’s not safe?”

            “I don’t think he’s a danger to humanity right now. I don’t know what his game is, but it isn’t that. Which is a nice change.”

            There was silence on the other end of the line.

            “Bad connection. Lady Bevell?” Sam asked politely.

            “Not at all.” That was a new voice, male.

            “Who are you?”          

            “My name’s Mick. Pleasure to speak to you. I’m glad you weren’t too hurt by Lady Bevell and her henchlady.”

            “Used to it.”

            “So I gather. Do you have any interest in hearing a proposal?”

            “If it doesn’t involve you murdering every American hunter, then sure.”

            “Oh dear. Toni, what on Earth have you been up to? No, we don’t want to kill anyone.”

            “You just want a bunch of information on us and our whereabouts.”

            “How can we work together if we don’t know each other?” Mick asked. He lowered his voice. “I’d advise you to take this deal, honestly. Things have been quite unsettling around here in the last two weeks.”

            “Unsettling how?”

            “Well, Lady Bevell came to do some recon, and she certainly overstepped her bounds. But the old people are starting to think that your reception of her questions is indicative of an aggressive attitude.”

            “I did get aggressive,” Sam admitted. “You know, after I was shot, abducted, zapped with a cattle prod, given a cold shower, and almost got a blow torch to my feet.”

            “Yes, as I said, much too far. But we’re all working towards the same goal here, Sam. You must see that.”

            “Actually, I don’t agree with your methods,” Sam answered. “Just wiping anyone out who isn’t human—that isn’t right.”

            “How else are we going to—”

            “That’s enough, Michael.” It was a woman speaking again, but it wasn’t Toni. “I told you not to let them talk to you.”

            “Who the hell are you?”

            “Dr. Hesse. I am the head of this organization.”

            “Ah, so you’re the one I get to thank.”

            “Mr. Winchester, your choices are simple. You are a legacy of the American organization, and that is important. No matter how low you may have fallen, you have the potential to become a true Man of Letters, you and your brother. Unite the American hunters under your banner, so to speak, and we can deal with you. Our resources would be incalculably valuable to you.”

            Sam saw Dean come in the room. He shook his head.

            “Do you have any idea how many hunters are operating in America?”

            “…Not exactly, no.”

            “Neither do we. And a lot of them work alone, and a lot of them don’t like us. And I’ve got a feeling a lot of them won’t like you, since the way you deal with monsters seems a lot like the way you deal with anyone who says no to you.”

            “Yet you’re the one letting your torturer roam free.”

            Sam pressed his lips together. “And that would be my choice. Lady Bevell has a child—”

            “I’m not talking about that silly bitch, I’m talking about Lucifer. You unleashed that monster on Earth _again_ , and—”

            “That’s enough.” Sam shot a quick look at the others, and took the phone away from his ear, tilting it so they could hear. “You’re telling me that we either join you or what, prepare for war? You’re really going to fight humans?”

            “A bunch of incompetent, alcoholic, illiterate idiots who barely know what they’re dealing with? They’re doing more harm than good this way, you must see that.”

            Dean scowled.

            “What I see about you,” Sam replied, “is a group of people who think they can judge everyone by their ‘status’. And who have no idea what they’re dealing with. Leave us in peace; let us go our own way, and you go yours. But if you come here, you won’t find much hospitality.”

            “So you’ve made your choice?”

            Sam saw the others nodding.

            “The American Men of Letters send their regards.” Sam paused. “Screw you.”  

            He slammed down the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	6. This Means War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crisis across the sea is momentarily forgotten in favour of a nearby problem, but it isn't quite as far away as it seems. Luckily there are three familiar faces to help--and two of them are surprising.

            “So what do we do now?”

            Dean was looking at him like he had an answer, but Sam had no idea.

            “Was that even the right thing to do?” Sam asked. He traced the phone.

            “Yes, it was.” His mom put a hand on his arm. “If all they want is to make us hunt their way, then we don’t have to work with them.”

            “I agree,” Cas nodded. “Their methods are extreme. And that Dr. Hesse…she reminds me of Naomi.”

            Dean winced. “Yeah, we should stay away from bitches who remind us of her. We stay quiet.”

            “We need to get word out through the hunter grapevine.” Sam winced. “Toni Bevell mentioned some other…contacts they planned to make.”

            “On it.” Dean took out his phone.

            “Hold on.” Their Mom sat down. “We need to make a phone tree.”

            “A what?”

            “You know, people who can call other people?” Mom looked surprised. “Is that not a thing now?”

            “We kinda had—well, we’ve been kind of out of touch with everyone for a while.”

            “Then we’d better get started.” Mom grabbed paper and a pen. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

 

            An hour later, Sam realized they’d left someone out of the sprawling tree (Jody and Garth knew what Mom was talking about, and they’d connected the trees).

            “What about Eileen?”

            “Eileen? Oh, yeah! We can’t call her!”

            “Who’s Eileen?” Mom asked.

            “A hunter we know. Her parents were killed by a banshee, and she went deaf in the attack.” Sam took out his phone. Her number was still saved. The last time they’d texted was two weeks ago, when he’d told her about the Darkness. Exhausted and confused after Lucifer’s rescue and his Mom’s resurrection, all he’d said was ‘it’s over, everything’s okay, I’ll talk to you later’.

            _Uh oh._

“I’ll text her,” Sam said. He quickly typed out a message. _Hi, I know this is later than you probably wanted._

Eileen responded immediately. _The sun isn’t dead, so I’m guessing we’re okay?_

_Yeah. Amara and Chuck made up._

_Seriously?_

_I know. I guess they broke the cycle. That they started._

_Good for them. I was actually just about to text you. I’m on a case about fifty miles from you, and I think I need some backup._

            Sam raised his eyebrows. _What happened to working alone?_

_A double shifter case._

Sam sat straight up. _Are you serious?_

_Yes. Very. And something feels weird about it too. Can you come?_

_Sure. Is it okay if Dean and Cas tag along?_

_The more the merrier._

Sam looked up to find the other three staring at him. “What?”

            “You just looked…very absorbed.” Mom cleared her throat. “How is Eileen?”

            “She needs help, actually. She’s hunting shifters.”

            “As in plural?”

            “Yeah, and she said it feels weird on top of that.”

            Mom stood up. “Well, better get some silver. Where do you boys keep it?”

            Sam glanced at Dean.

            “You want to…come too?” Dean asked.

            “Well, yeah, of course.” Mom twisted her long hair into a bun. “I might have been dead for a long time, but I still remember how to hunt. And hey, if that’s what this family does…” she trailed off, bitterness in her tone.

            “You don’t have to come, Mom. We can do this on our own.”

            “I know. But I want to come. And I’d like to meet Eileen. There weren’t very many female hunters in my time.”

            Sam shrugged. “Sure, Mom. We’d be happy to have you.” He could see Dean tense, but his brother did get up and lead Mom in the directions of the weapons room, so that was a good sign.

            He turned back to his phone.

            _Actually, there will be another hunter. She’s trustworthy._

_Promise?_

_She’s my mom. So yes, I promise._

There was a long pause, and then five texts at once.

            _Your mom?_

_Do you mean Jody Mills?_

_Wait no you don’t call her mom._

_Your MOM mom?_

_SAM WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?_

Sam winced. _I’ll tell you everything in ten minutes. We’ll be on the road then._

_You better. I feel like I’ve skipped to the mid-season finale._

Sam spent the majority of the drive filling Eileen in on the last couple of weeks, and by the time they reached Mankato, she’d given a similar view about the Men of Letters that the rest of the hunters they’d spoken to.

            _Fuck them. My parents died in Ireland, which is fucking next door. So they can take their ‘perfect record’ and shove it up their ass._

Sam couldn’t help smiling at that. He had a feeling Eileen would get along with Dean.

            She’d get along with Mom, too, if the last couple of weeks were any indication. Meeting his mother and finding out that she couldn’t cook, swore like a sailor, was as much of a neat-freak as Dean, and was worried about being a mom was strange for Sam, but it was also really nice. His father had always held Mom on a pedestal, an angelic, perfect woman.

            Looking over at his mother singing along to Steppenwolf, hair in her eyes and a bacon sandwich in her hand…Sam liked his real mother better.

            Eileen was waiting for them outside the motel. “Hello.”

            Sam held his hands up. _Hello, Eileen. Ready to deal with the shift work?_

“You know we don’t work nine to five in hunting, Sam.”

            Sam scowled. “Sorry. I’m trying to figure out the right way to sign that.”

            Eileen held up a hand, and then put it behind her head quickly. “That’s how I do it.”

            “Cool.” Sam reached out to shake her hand, but Eileen hugged him. Shocked, it took Sam a minute to respond, putting an arm carefully around Eileen’s shoulders.

            “Hi Dean!” Eileen said, pulling away. “And you must be Castiel.”

            Castiel signed something to her, so quickly Sam couldn’t understand. Eileen smiled hugely.

            “And—” Eileen stared at Mom for a minute. “Hello, Mrs. Winchester.”

            “Please, Mary’s fine.” Mom fumbled for a minute, but Eileen took her hand.

            “Nice to meet you, Mary. And don’t worry, as long as you’re looking at me I can read your lips. I’m glad you’re here. I need as many pairs of eyes as I can find.”

            They followed Eileen into the motel. It was a decent place; nicer than they usually got. The front desk person actually looked cheerful, for one thing, and the wallpaper in the lobby was pleasant, a muted blue with pale purple flowers.

            “I already got you two rooms,” Eileen said over her shoulder. “One of them’s a queen, sorry about that. They’re pretty full.”

            “What makes them so full?” Sam asked.

            “Lots of reporters. Come on.” Eileen waved to the front desk lady, and then hurried up the stairs.   

            When they got inside, Sam was a little surprised. Eileen’s room was tidy, with her bag neatly packed. The only sign of anything related to hunting were some newspaper clippings stacked together on the table.

            “So what is this case?”

            Eileen handed Dean the clippings. “There have been three deaths in the last two week. All the victims are women of different ages. The oldest is fifty, the youngest twenty-five.”

            “And why do you think there’s a shifter?” Dean asked.

            Eileen pulled a tablet from her bag. “This was taken by a tourist yesterday, after Rebecca was killed. That woman in the back looks exactly like her.”

            Sam and Mom looked at the picture. The tell-tale shifter flash was there. What troubled Sam more, though, was that the woman was holding a child’s hand. The kid was looking down at the ground, and Sam couldn’t make out their face.

            “You think the kid is a shifter?”

            Eileen nodded. “There are no reports of missing children nearby.”

            “So maybe the older one’s using the kid as bait.”

            “They don’t look happy,” Mom said softly.

            “I don’t…” Eileen trailed off. “I don’t know if I want to kill a baby shifter. But if it’s an adult pretending to be a child—”

            “Or if there’s a whole family, we need to be careful,” Sam finished.

            “That’s why I want backup,” Eileen said. “I was going to be bait, but…even that’s a bit much for me.”

            “Reasonable.” Mom patted Eileen’s hand. “Don’t worry, we’ve got enough silver to take down a hive of shifters. It’ll be fine.”

 

            It started out fine, at least.

            Sam and Mom had dumped their stuff in the double room (thank goodness for rock paper scissors), and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon looking over the town map with Eileen, trying to figure out where the shifters might be hunting. The women had vanished from two different playgrounds, so Mom went to one with Cas, and Eileen went to the other with Sam and Dean. No matter who managed to catch the shifter’s attention, they could all meet up pretty fast. It wasn’t a big town.

            It was sunset, and there weren’t too many people at the park, which made it super easy for two large men to blend in. Sam and Dean stayed in the car after one look at an eagle-eyed woman with three children who was staring at them. Eileen sat alone on a bench, a hand on her stomach and a wistful expression on her face.

            Sam leaned back in his seat, hoping that this wouldn’t be a long stakeout.

            Two hours passed, and it got dark. The women and children had all left except Eileen. Cas was checking in every twenty minutes, but nothing was going on at the mall either.

            “Maybe the shifter’s taking a night off,” Dean muttered.

            “Well, we can go back to the motel soon, and you can go to bed with Cas,” Sam answered.

            There was just enough light to see Dean’s blush. “The hell is that supposed—”

            “Wait, look!”

            A woman was walking up to Eileen. She had a child with her.

            It was the same child from the picture, but a different woman.

            “Pray to Cas,” Sam hissed.

Eileen started speaking to the woman, and there was no obvious signs of alarm, but Sam’s skin was crawling. His suspicions were confirmed when Eileen reached out to touch the woman’s bare arm with the hand that bore her silver ring.

            The woman jerked back. Sam was out of the car before he realized it, gun drawn. “Get away from her!” he shouted.

            The woman spun around. It wasn’t ‘Rebecca’s’ face; had they already claimed another victim? “Run, BJ!” she shouted.

            The kid—that must be BJ—didn’t run, even when Sam pointed his gun at them. Instead, they did something completely shocking.

            BJ ran straight at Dean, so fast Dean couldn’t react fast enough, and hugged him around the legs.

            “Dean!” the kid shouted, delighted. “It’s you!”

            Sam blinked hard. To her credit, the grownup shifter looked just as confused. Eileen had her knife out, but she was frozen too.

            BJ let go of Dean, and ran to Sam. “Hi Sam! I can’t believe you’re here!”

            Now the other shifter seemed to understand. “Bobby, are these—”

            Something clicked in Sam’s head. One of the few good memories of his time being soulless, a little hotel room and Dean humming Smoke on the Water…

            “Oh my God.”

            “It’s me Sam! It’s Bobby John!”

            It would be crazy to think the kid would still look anything like the…well, two different babies he and Dean had taken care of. But the kid’s eyes…there was something familiar there.

            “You’re the hunters who took care of them,” the woman said. She dropped any aggressive pose. “I thought BJ might have made you up.”

            “Nuh-uh, Rhonda! I remember!”

            “You were just a baby,” Sam said wonderingly. Eileen looked really confused, so Sam started talking with his hands. “We haven’t seen you since then. How do you remember?”

            “Oh, I remember everything,” BJ explained. They let go of Sam’s legs and turned to Eileen, and started signing flawlessly along with their story. “I couldn’t talk cause I was a baby, but I remember you. And then Alpha took me away. And then the demon king took away Alpha.”

            Sam’s heart sank, remembering what happened to the Alphas. “What happened to you then?”

            “Rhonda took care of me,” BJ said. They smiled at the lady. “She’s awesome, and we hid together. Now we do awesome things and save people, just like you!”

            Sam winced. “BJ…people have died.”

            “Yeah, but they were bad ladies!”

            Sam raised his eyebrows.

            “It’s true.” Rhonda set her shoulders. “The first woman made a false accusation of rape twenty years ago, and her ‘rapist’ died in prison. The second woman abuses her children, and the third was a murderer. She killed her first husband, and was planning to kill her second.”

            “Who are you wearing right now?”

            “This is who I usually am. It’s a woman I saw a long time ago. I like her skin. It fits me well.” Rhonda tossed her hair over her shoulder. “BJ and I want to punish those the law cannot stop. They’re a good distraction while I deal with these human monsters.” BJ ran to her side, and Rhonda hugged them close.

            Sam shared a look with Dean. _You buying this?_

“They’re telling the truth.”

            Cas had appeared out of nowhere, his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “I can see it.”

            “Eileen?” Sam asked. This was her case, after all.

            To his relief, Eileen smiled at Rhonda, and put her blade away. “That’s good enough for me. But I’m worried about you getting caught.”

            “Don’t worry about that.” Rhonda’s eyes glowed. “I’d die before I let something happen to BJ, and they’re a good fighter on their own. And by killing these women, it lets their victims step forwards without fear.”

            Eileen looked at Sam. _We should let them go. Right?_

_Right,_ Sam signed back. “We have no problem letting you go,” he told Rhonda. “But could you try and avoid killing, maybe? I know they’re bad people, but—”

            “But everyone has a right to a trial?” Rhonda interrupted.

            “No. I was thinking that there are worse things than death.” Sam met the shifter’s eyes, and then he looked at BJ. “You take care of yourself, kid. I’m glad you’re okay.”

            “Can I come and see you sometime?” BJ asked. “Both of you?”

            “They can come and visit your grave.”

            Sam spun around.

            Two men were standing just out of the streetlight’s reach. One had dark hair, the other light. They both had guns drawn.

            Sam had his own out before he could think, stepping in front of Rhonda and BJ. “Who the hell are you?”

            But the accent told him plenty.

            “Arthur Ketch, British Men of Letters,” the one with dark hair said. “This is Rawlings. And we must have misheard you.”

            “You’re actually going to let them go? What kind of dirt do they have on you?” That was Rawlings, sneering. “They’re shifters, idiots. They need to die.”

            “They’re not doing anything—” Sam stopped. “Well, they are killing people. But they’re killing bad people.”

            “Because shifters are a good judge of human character,” Ketch snapped.

            “I have research!” Rhonda said. Her face was going pale, and she clutched BJ to her. “I have lots of proof for every person, I can show you—”

            “We’re not interested in proof. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It matters what you are.” Rawlings raised his gun. “Move, Winchester. Or I’ll shoot you too, I’ve got no problem with that.”

            “Try that and you’re dead before you pull the trigger,” Dean snarled.

            “Really?” Ketch sighed. “What a waste. You could have been useful.”

            Everything started moving very slowly. Ketch pointed his gun at Mom, but before the trigger could be pulled another gun went off.

            And it was Ketch, not Mom, who crumpled to the ground, a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead.

            Sam looked around in shock, but Dean looked just as confused.

            Then Sam heard a gasp of shock.

Eileen was frozen, staring at Arthur Ketch’s fallen body.

            “You—you killed him!” Rawlings yelled.

            “I didn’t mean to,” Eileen gasped. “I swear, it was an accident. I hit his gun and—”

            “You killed a human. You’re no better than the monsters!” Rawlings took aim at Eileen. He raised his voice. “Come and get them, lads. Looks like they’ve chosen their side.”

            _Not good._

Sam immediately moved towards the others as running feet came toward them. His heart sank; the men appearing out of the darkness were fully armed and dressed head to toe in body armour.

            Sam glanced at Cas, but the angel shook his head. He couldn’t teleport them all out at the same time.

            Sam kept his gun up, checked that Rhonda and BJ were safely behind them, and prayed for a miracle. They were going to need it.

            “Well, it’s not a miracle, but I suppose I’ll have to do.”

            Everyone jumped. Lucifer was lounging on the bench, looking extremely bored.

            “Didn’t I already tell you people to get lost?” he asked.

            Rawling’s men froze.

            “That’s right. The Devil’s real. You didn’t chalk that up to female hysteria or something, did you? Now fuck off before I turn nasty.”

            “You’re a monster.”

            “Sure am. On the other hand, you’ve got sixteen people here to fight seven, and four of them are your kind.” Lucifer’s eyes glowed blue. “So who are the real monsters?”

            Rawling fired at Lucifer. The archangel caught it in midair.

            “Not smart. Sam, I’m assuming you’ve told these people they’re not welcome in the States?”

            “Yes. Very clearly.”

            “See? It’s not just the Devil that’s telling you to fuck off.” The street light started flickering. “Go. You disgrace your very mission.” Lucifer’s voice was getting deeper, his eyes glowing brighter. Sam winced.

            Lucifer snapped his fingers, and every last one of the Men of Letters vanished.

            “What did you just do?!” Mary gasped.

            “Sent them away,” Lucifer answered. “Back to Britain. That’s where you wanted them, right?”

            “Why did you step in?” Dean asked. “Why are you here?”

            Lucifer locked eyes with Sam for just an instant, and then looked back to Dean. “I was in the area. And as for why…” his eyes glowed again. “I cannot stand human beings. But hypocrisy on top of that?”

            And with a flutter of wings, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to bring back Bobby John for AGES and I was finally able to do it, yay!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	7. Sam Wins (Against His Inner Demons) and Loses (His Temper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's worried about Lucifer, and he's worried about a certain hunter with expressive hands. As it turns out, the problems are different than he thought.  
> Also, he's so done. With two people.  
> Maybe that gets resolved as well?

            Sending BJ and Rhonda off (with phone numbers exchanged, and the promise of a visit) was quick. Dashing back to the hotel to grab their things and check out was also quick.

            But driving back to the Bunker took an eternity.

            Sam rode with Eileen, and the two of them didn’t speak much, other than to confirm that Eileen wanted to come to the Bunker. Sam was grateful for Eileen’s silence, because there were too many questions in his head.

            How serious were the Brits? They were clearly comfortable with killing humans if they got in their way, and they had some serious gear for people who were coming to kill a couple of shifters. Sam had a sinking feeling that this was going to get ugly, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Was it really worth it, dragging everyone in?

            But there was a bigger, more frightening question in Sam’s mind. How had Lucifer heard his prayer?

            Did that mean they were connected in some way?

            When they stopped, Eileen grabbed his hand. “Talk to me, Sam.”

            And for some reason, Sam spilled every last question. He saw Mom and Dean and Cas out of the corner of his eye, but he wanted to stay in here for a minute. It felt easier to be so worried with one person.

            (Or maybe it felt easier to be worried with Eileen, but Sam put that thought away).

            “We need a plan,” Eileen answered at last. “This is a problem we don’t know how to solve yet, but we’ll figure it out. We have an advantage, you know.”

            “What’s that?”

            “They’re humans. Whatever forces they might have at their disposals, they still think like us. They still have limitations.”

            Sam nodded. “They’re not the Darkness. Or—” he stopped.

            “As for Lucifer…maybe you should ask him. If he can’t hurt you, it won’t put you in danger.”

            “I don’t know if I want to talk to him about that. Or at all.”

            “What will happen if you don’t?”

            Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”

            “When I have to do something I don’t like, I always think about what will happen if I don’t. If I can live with it, I won’t do it.”

            “That’s usually what I do,” Sam said. “Sometimes I…I can’t decide which is right.”

            “Would you stop praying if you knew it was going to him?”

            “Yes.” Sam didn’t even have to think about it.

            “But that’s part of you—I mean, you did it without thinking tonight. It’s important to you.”

            “It’s weird, I know. Especially since I know God—”

            “I don’t think it’s weird. Ritual’s important, especially when it comes to faith.” Eileen brushed her hand over the dashboard. “I light candles after every hunt. One for everyone who died. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I want them to know that someone cares.” Her lip trembled.

            And Sam felt like an idiot, because the future wasn’t the only problem she was facing. “You don’t have to light a candle tonight.”

            Eileen shook her head. “He wasn’t a monster. I didn’t—I—”

            _It was a mistake_ , Sam signed. Aloud, he said, “you saved my mother. I can never thank you enough.”

            Eileen leaned forward, and Sam put his arms around her. He could feel her shaking, and he rubbed her back. He had an idea what she was feeling—carrying his mistakes for so long had gotten him used to the weight.

            He tapped on her back curiously, wondering if she knew Morse Code.

            Eileen actually laughed. “I do know tapping,” she answered, wiping her eyes. “And thank you.”

            Sam kept tapping. _You did your best. It was an accident and we all know it._

            Eileen yawned against his shoulder, and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten much sleep.”

            “Come on. We should go in anyways.” Sam got out and got around the car just in time to open Eileen’s door for her. “Thanks, Eileen.”

            “Thanks Sam.” Eileen smiled at him.

            It was a dangerous smile, and Sam almost took a step back. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Come on, we’ll find you a room.”

 

******

            It got more dangerous when Sam realized that Dean had already chosen a room for Eileen, and it was right next to his. Sam wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole, and he ignored Dean’s hint that they should “keep talking it out.” Cas wanted to stay up to debrief, but Sam shook his head. “I think we need to sleep on it,” he said, and went straight to bed, claiming tiredness.

            He didn’t sleep for hours though, tossing and turning.

            _What to do about the Men of Letters? What were they planning? What could they do about Lucifer?_

Sam must have fallen asleep at some point, because he did wake up. Going for a long, hard run helped, and it was nearly noon before he got home.  He took a quick shower, and returned to his room to dress. He was ready to start researching, but he was interrupted by Dean shouting.

            “GET OUT OF OUR FUCKING HOUSE!”

            Sam had his gun in hand in an instant. He looked down the hall. Eileen’s door was open, and the room was empty. But it couldn’t…it couldn’t be Eileen Dean was shouting at, could it?

            But when Sam got to the main hall it wasn’t Eileen. Eileen wasn’t even in sight.

            Lucifer stood there, hands up, and Mom and Dean had their guns on him. Cas was glaring at his brother, angel blade in hand.

            “Sam.” Lucifer’s eyes were on him. “There you are.”

            “What the hell are you doing here?”

            “I wanted to know if I could stay here for a while.”

            “Wait.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “What did you just say?”

            Lucifer sighed. “You heard me. I need a place to stay for a little while. I’m not welcome in Heaven or Hell—”

            “There’s a shock,” Mom muttered.

            “And it looks like you might need some help with the Brits,” Lucifer continued.

            “You’re an archangel. You’re saying you need shelter?”

            “Just a place to come back to. I’m still…working on my repentance.”

            “Why does it have to be here?”

            “My Grace is better hidden here. All your warding’s very useful.”

            “Fuck no!” Dean snarled.

            Sam just looked at Lucifer. “So you won’t be here all the time?”

            “Sam?” Dean asked, shocked.

            “You’d have to be useful,” Sam said, ignoring Dean for a moment.

            “I can do that.” Lucifer looked discomfited, but he also looked honest.

            Sam took a deep breath. “I’m alright with it on these conditions. For a little while.”

            “Wait, seriously? He’s tried to kill us—”

            “He can’t hurt us, Dean. And…and we don’t know enough about the Brits. With Chuck and Amara off-world, he might be our best chance.”

            “I enjoy being a tool,” Lucifer said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

            “Those are the conditions,” Sam snapped.

            “Okay. I promise on my Father’s life that I will be here as little as possible, but I will respond to your calls for help. I will not use up the hot water, and you won’t see me if you don’t want to. Fair enough?”

            Sam looked at the others. “Well?”

            “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Sammy?” Dean asked. He glanced at Cas.

            “I am.” And Sam wasn’t a hundred percent sure why, but he was.

            “Then…very well,” Cas said.

            Dean and Mom nodded.

            “Awesome. Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I had another option,” Lucifer said. “The constant stalking is getting annoying. Angels trying to smite me, demons trying to worship…I literally just want to exist for a while.”

            “Funny how actions have consequences,” Sam snarked. He glanced at Cas.

            “Dean, come and help me with my car,” Cas said abruptly. “Mary, I would appreciate your help as well.”

            “I’ll stay. I haven’t had breakfast yet.” Sam went into the kitchen, and wasn’t surprised to notice Lucifer following him.

            “What’s your game, Lucifer?”

            “Exactly what I just said. I’m not lying, Sam.”

            “I know that.” Sam took a deep breath. “I can tell by now, Lucifer. I just don’t understand why you want to even be here.”

            Lucifer muttered something under his breath.

            “What?”

            “I said my Father wants me to stay on Earth. I was just going to take off, but it’s part of my penance. And you’re all goodie-goodies. I figured maybe it would easier around you.”

            Sam grabbed cereal, milk, and put the coffee on.

            “If you make anyone here’s life miserable, I will crush you.”

            “I’d expect nothing else.” Lucifer paused. “By the way, I’m hearing your—”

            “I figured that out. Any idea why?”

            “Nope. It’s been going on for a while now. Try saying my Father’s name before you start. I can ignore them, by the way. You just sounded desperate.”

            “Thanks.” It was physically painful to say it, but it was necessary. “We would have died.”

            “I don’t like hypocrites,” Lucifer said calmly. “I really don’t like it when hypocrites are cowards. But you can deal with them. They’re just humans.”

            “So are we.”

            “Yeah but you’ve taken down way worse. Speaking of which, who was the girl?”

            Sam went pale. “That was—” he groaned. “She’s staying here now. She has a say about you being here.”

            “Does she own the place?”

“She’s a legacy, just like us.” Sam stood up. “I’m going to ask Eileen.”          

Lucifer frowned. “Why don’t you just call out to her?”

            “I can’t, she’s deaf.”

            Lucifer’s eyes widened. “Oh, is this the one?”

            “What?” And then Sam remembered, a weight settling in his stomach. “I didn’t—that conversation wasn’t—”

            “Supposed to be with me? Yes, I know, you were talking to Castiel.”

            Sam curled his hands into fists. “So you were the one—”

            “Who encouraged you to ask her out?”

            Sam glanced over his shoulder, and turned back to see Lucifer rolling his eyes. “Calm down. Everyone’s still in the garage, and you know they won’t judge. Why shouldn’t you go after her?”

            “You know exactly why.”

            “I think you’re letting the past decide the present.”

            “Do I look like I need advice from you?”

             Lucifer folded his arms. Tell you what, let’s make a deal.”

            “No.”

            “Hear—”

            “No.”

            “I thought you were all about protecting people?”

            Sam flinched.

            “Now you’re listening. Good. It’s really simple. You go and tell Eileen how you feel about her, and whatever she says, I’ll leave her alone.”

            Sam froze. “You can’t hurt humans.”

            “No, I can’t. But I haven’t tested whether or not I can _cause_ humans to be hurt.”

            “You’re just going to keep doing this to get your way,” Sam snapped. “With other people I—” he stopped, more surprised than scared.

            “Already almost dropping the ‘L’ word, hm?” Lucifer sighed. “How about this, then—your entire _family_ is safe from any experimentation I might make. In fact, I’ll only experiment on child molesters. Happy?”

            “Why are you so keen to do this?”

            “Honestly? Watching you be in pain when I’m not causing it is just kind of dull. You’re so self-righteously self-sacrificing, you’re willing to drown in your own sadness. It’s boring to me.”

            Sam flipped him off.

            “That’s mature. Do we have a deal?”

            Sam hesitated, thinking through it carefully. “Wait, I don’t have to, you know—”

            “Oh my _Dad,_ no. No, no, absolutely not.” Lucifer looked faintly disgusted. “We can…finger-guns about it. Or something. How about a nod?”

            Sam went through it in his head one more time. He nodded.

            “Great! Get going! I’ll get a room picked out nice and far away from yours. Toodles!” Lucifer flew off.

            Sam took a deep breath and went to find Eileen.

            He saw her in the library, but it took him a minute to go in. Now that he was facing actually doing it, he was nervous. Eileen was incredible—beautiful, so smart, so kind, and she’d fought in a world that would have beaten her down harder than others. Sam was damaged goods, literally, and hadn’t been with a woman in ages.

            And then there was that nagging worry, the number of graves he’d stood beside, Ruby’s treachery, Amelia’s troubled heart…

            But maybe it was worth it to try. And honestly, Sam was getting tired of worrying.

            He went into the library.

            Eileen was poring over some Men of Letters records, typing up notes as she went. She smiled when she saw him. “Hi Sam.”

            “Hi, Eileen.” Sam held up his hands, hoping they wouldn’t shake too much. _What are you working on?_

_Trying to find more Men of Letters families. I want to see if there are more people like us._

Sam’s chest warmed at the ‘us’. _That’s a great idea. It would be really cool to have more people here._

_Is Lucifer still here?_

_How did you know?_

_Your mother told me. Are you okay?_

Sam nodded. _I think he might stay. Unless you want him gone._

_I trust you._

Sam blinked. _Really?_

_Yes._

_Thank you._

Eileen smiled. _You did it right that time._

Sam blushed. It hadn’t been until he was going through YouTube videos of ASL that he’d realized he’d signed ‘fuck you’ to Eileen that first time.

            _Yeah. Sorry about that._

_It was a mistake. It’s okay. I just thought you were trying to hit on me with ASL knowledge._

Sam was pretty sure his face was on fire. “I wasn’t,” he said aloud. He gathered his courage and moved his hands. _I want to now though. Do you want to go out with me?_

_Yes._

“Wait—really?” Sam was stunned. Was it that simple?

            “Oh wow, have I been too subtle?” Eileen looked down. “I thought I was making that clear. I like you, Sam.” She groaned. “I sound like I’m in third grade.”

            _No you don’t._ Sam hesitated before he reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Eileen? I’m not…a lot has happened to me.”

            _Trust issues?_ Eileen signed.

            _Not with you,_ Sam replied. _I never have with you._

 _Even though I sliced your hand?  
            Yes. _ Sam smiled. _I like you, Eileen. I want to be with you. But I just—things aren’t great right now. I’m worried about that._

 _We’re hunters. Things are never great._ Eileen patted his hand. “It’s the only useful thing Lillian ever taught me. If we wait for the perfect moment we’ll never have it.”

            “Are you okay with maybe…taking things slow? It’s been a long time.”

            “Slow is great.” Eileen looked relieved. She took his other hand. “Want to help me with the records?”

            Sam nodded. He slid into a seat next to her and bent over the books. “Where have you been looking?”

            A few hours later, they’d determined that there were no other Legacy families in the States. Dean brought them sandwiches in the middle of the afternoon, and they were munched on as they tried to figure out the active members of the British Men of Letters. Sam glanced at his watch. “Crap, it’s almost eleven.”

            Eileen yawned. “Yeah, we should go to bed.”

            They put the books away in silence, and Sam turned off the laptop. He was still holding Eileen’s hand as they walked down the hall together.

            Eileen’s door was right beside his, and Sam opened it for her.

            “Such a gentleman,” Eileen said. She looked up at him, and for a second she didn’t look quite so confident. “Sam?”

            “Yes?”

            Eileen wrapped her arms around him, and Sam hugged her back, closing his eyes as he buried his face in her hair.

            It took him a second to realize she was tapping on his back in Morse Code.

            _Could I stay with you? Is that too fast?_

Sam pulled away enough so she could see his face. “Can we just…just sleep?”

            “Of course. I just…I don’t feel like being alone tonight.”

            “Okay, give me a minute to change.”

            Sam slid into sweatpants and a long-sleeved pajama shirt. When he finished, he opened his door, surprised to see Eileen there in similar pajamas.

            For a second Sam hesitated. He’d never had other people sleep in his room, and ever since Lucifer was in here…

            Suddenly this felt a bit too fast.

            But then Eileen smiled, and Sam realized that he really wanted to sleep in his own bed. With Eileen, with her in his arms.

            He led her over to the bed and turned the light down to a soft glow. “Do you want it off?” he thought to ask. He’d kept it on a little bit for months, refusing to acknowledge that it acted like a night light.

            _A little light is easier for me._ Eileen slid under the blankets, and when Sam joined her, she laid her head on his chest. _Goodnight, Sam._

Sam kissed the top of her head and put an arm around her. _Goodnight,_ he signed.

            He meant to stay awake until Eileen fell asleep, to give himself a chance to think this over, to wonder whether this was a good idea after all, and to keep an ear out for when Lucifer came back. But there was something about how easily they fit together, how comfortable his bed felt, and how tired he really was.

            Sam never even noticed falling asleep.

            When he woke up the next morning, Eileen was still asleep. Sam spent all of two seconds worrying that he was still dreaming, that he’d woken up in some kind of alternate universe—but then Eileen blinked, yawned, and then buried her face under the blanket.

            “No.”

            Sam pulled the blanket back. “Me no or morning no?”

            “You’re fine. It _can’t_ be morning.”

            Sam glanced at the clock. “It’s—holy crap, it’s almost ten thirty.”

            “No.” Eileen yanked the covers back, and pulled the pillow over the pile for good measure.

            “Not a morning person?” Sam asked. Then he realized Eileen couldn’t see him. He tapped politely on the pillow.

            “Too grumpy for cuddling,” came the muffled response. “I need coffee.”

            Sam beamed.

            Eileen pulled the blanket back just enough to show her eyes.

           “I’ll get you some. Black, right?”

            Eileen nodded. “Thank you.” She leaned up and kissed Sam’s cheek. “Good morning.”

           “I thought you were grumpy.”

           “I am,” Eileen huffed, and she disappeared under the blanket again.

           Sam put slippers on and padded down the hall.

           The fancy coffee maker Dean bought still wasn’t fixed, so Sam used the old one. He watched the coffee start to drip, and realized that he was still smiling.

           “Did you keep our deal?”

            Sam jumped. Lucifer was suddenly at the breakfast table.

            Sam glared at him. “Do you have to keep doing that?”

            “Of course I do. Surprising you monkey is my current and only source of joy in life. Now answer my question.”

            “I don’t take orders from you.” Sam turned his attention back to the coffee maker.

            “I’m only asking because everyone else has been up for two hours, and your mother’s getting concerned about your guest.”

            Oh right. Sam had almost forgotten the Bunker had other residents. Namely his brothers (one blood, one adopted) and his mother.

            And now he had a…well, was Eileen his girlfriend?

            Sam groaned.

            Dean came into the room. “Sammy!” His face was tense. “There you are, man. Mom said to let you sleep, but we were starting to get worried.”

            “Why were you worried?”

            “You never sleep this late, ever. And, uh…have you seen Eileen?”

            “Why?” Sam asked, hoping to delay the inevitable.

            But the inevitable shuffled through the door wearing his socks. Eileen was bleary eyed, and she yawned as she went over to Sam. _Coffee?_ She signed.

            Sam handed her the mug. Eileen took hold of his sleeve and maneuvered him towards a chair, sitting him down and climbing onto his lap. She took a long drink of coffee, sighed happily, and nuzzled into Sam’s chest.

            Sam put an arm around her and looked defiantly at Dean, who looked like Christmas had come early.

            “Mom! Cas! I found them!”

            “Fuck off,” Sam hissed.

            Dean looked at Lucifer, a hand on the angel blade tucked into his belt. “You’re not going to do something stupid, right?”

            Lucifer leaned back in his chair. “Nope. Too much effort.”

            Dean glanced at Sam, and Sam nodded. For some reason he believed Lucifer right now.

            And anyways, he and Eileen could take care of themselves.

           That thought was more comforting than Sam could have ever imagined.

           Mom and Cas came in at the same time. Cas stopped and stared at Sam, who was now trying hard to control his blush, but Mom just smiled, and then glared daggers at Lucifer.

         “So that’s where you two were. We were getting worried.”

           “Yeah, I guess we slept in.” Sam nudged Eileen, and she turned her head to see the newcomers.

           “I think that’s great,” Dean said firmly.

           Sam felt a surge of warmth and hope. Maybe Dean wouldn’t be insufferable about this after all. “Really?”

          “Of course. I’m happy for you Sammy. Eileen’s a great girl. It took you long enough!”

           Sam blinked. “Excuse me? Took me long enough? Took US long enough?” He kept an arm around Eileen to keep himself grounded.

          Dean’s smile faltered. “Yeah, I mean you’ve been kinda mooning over her for a while.”

         “How long’s a while, Dean? Anything close to _eight freaking years?!”_

          Mom had her hands over her mouth. Dean looked pale, and Cas opened his mouth.

         “Don’t you start, Cas! You’ve both been crazy for each other this entire time, and between gay panics—by the way, Dean, bisexuality is a thing! —and world ending disasters and dying and being brought back and almosts, do you think it’s getting a little bit frustrating?!”

         “Sam—”

          “No! Enough! Dean, you freaking love Cas with all your damn heart and soul, and Cas loves you too, and you should both be happy but you’re either too stupid or you hate yourselves too much, and I _can’t watch it anymore_. Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch two people you love be unhappy because they won’t talk to each other?!”

            Eileen was staring at him, reading his lips, Sam realized. He also realized that he’d just poured out eight years of frustration, and it was totally unfair to do that with witnesses, and he’d probably ruined any chance of Dean and Cas getting together…

           And at that exact moment, Cas grabbed Dean by his shirt collar and kissed him like it was the end of the world.

            Well, not really, because they’d had several ‘last nights on earth’, and this had never happened.

            Sam stared, unable to believe it. Mom’s eyes were shining, and Eileen’s hand was tight around Sam’s.

            Dean and Cas broke apart. Dean was gasping, but he looked calmer than Sam had ever seen him.

            Well, not calm exactly.

            _Happy. That’s the word._

“I guess that’s one way to solve that.”

            Sam almost jumped. He’d almost forgotten Lucifer was in the room. The Devil sat calmly, but there was a strange look on his face. Did he look…proud?

            Proud of Cas? But how could that be?

            Cas raised his blade. “Don’t.”

            “Don’t what, Castiel? Confirm what Sam said? I saw it all last year, remember?”

            Cas snarled.

            “Ignore him, babe.” Dean looked at Sam. “So…do I owe you an apology?”

            Sam shook his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Just promise me you two will have a grownup talk about feelings.”

            Dean grimaced, but his expression softened when Cas took his hand. “I—thanks. Bitch.”

            “Jerk.”

            “So you and Cas just…got together?” Mom said.

            Sam tensed. Did Mom know about gay people? She’d died in 1981, things weren’t exactly sunshine and rainbows for LGBTQ+ people then.

            Dean looked scared too. “Um, yeah, Mom. Is that okay?”

            Mom just looked bewildered. “I thought you two were already together. You really aren’t?” She looked at Sam. “Oh, honey, you poor thing.”

            Dean groaned. “Yes, alright, I’m stupid. Very funny.”

            “You’re not stupid, dearest,” Cas said firmly. “We’re both just very good at believing that we were friends. And that wanting anything more would never happen.”

            “And missing any signals,” Eileen added.

            “Hey, quiet, newbie!”

            Eileen signed something very quickly, but Sam still caught it. He blushed.  

            “The fuck did she say?” Dean snapped.

            “I said I have better things to do with my mouth anyways.” Eileen kissed Sam’s cheek.  "Now be nice if you want coffee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean yes, yes it did get resolved.  
> I will never tire of making up new scenarios in which So Done(TM) Sam is part of getting Dean and Cas together. Ever.  
> And if you're wondering whether someone is OOC, the answer is yes. And there's a reason for that yes. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't go looking for it :)  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	8. Whiskey As Brain Bleach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam really wants brain bleach. He'll have to make do with Craig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mild sexual content here.

            The next week was the happiest Sam had felt in ages. He and Eileen spent tons of time together, Dean and Cas were content at last, and Mom was settling into the Bunker, exploring the resources and planning for future problems. There was nothing from the Brits, no hunts to go on, and Lucifer was only spotted a couple of times. Peace was a bit strange, but Sam wasn’t going to complain; it gave them some time to prepare for whatever was coming.

Of course, he wasn’t allowed to be happy for long.

            The Bunker was quiet that Wednesday. Mom insisted on going to get more groceries (“we need more supplies in case people need to take refuge here”. “We don’t have any more room in the freezer.” “Then we need to buy another freezer”), and Eileen went with her (Baby couldn’t hold a freezer, if they happened to find one). Sam spent the morning with Dean and Cas, checking on the phone tree and gathering reports on the Brit’s activities (nothing so far beyond a man ‘with soft hands’ who’d last been seen in Maine). The newly (finally) together couple went for a drive, and Sam decided to take a nap.

            He was thirty five, he was entitled to have naps.

            When he woke up, Sam felt disoriented. His body still wasn’t used to proper sleeping, and waking up when it was light outside was odd.

            He got out of bed and stumbled down the hall, yawning. He couldn’t hear anyone else, so they must not be home yet…

            Then he heard a woman scream.

            If Sam had been slightly more awake, he would have recognized both the voice and the tone, but he just ran down the hall. The sound was coming from Lucifer’s room, and Sam burst in, ready to save the woman. Even if she was a child molester, Sam wasn’t about to let Lucifer experiment in the Bunker—

            He caught a glimpse of bare skin, red hair, and huge wings before he shut his eyes.

            “OH FUCKING HELL NO!”

            Sam stumbled backwards, trying to erase what he just saw. He couldn’t…they weren’t…

            _No fucking way._

Rowena poked her head out of the door, shoulders bare. “Go _away_ , Samuel.”

            That was all Sam wanted to do, but he had to make sure of something. “You—you want this, right?”

            Rowena blushed. “Yes, I do. Now leave.”

            “This is my—you know what, I’m gone.” And Sam all but ran away.

            He’d been mentally preparing himself for Lucifer’s possible plans since the Devil had moved in. Traps were set, lore was checked, and Sam comforted himself knowing that Lucifer, true to his word, had mostly stayed away.

            ‘Accidentally walking in on Lucifer banging Rowena’ had never been on his potential risk list.

            Sam groaned. He wanted that image out of his head, and for good. He groaned again when he realized he would have to tell the others. _Noooo…_

But there was one person that should know before anyone else. Not that Sam owed him anything, but it seemed the decent thing to do.

            He pulled out his phone. _Come to the Bunker. Bring booze. I have news._

*****

“Crowley, how are you?” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Did you bring any whiskey?”

            “I’m not a bootlegger, Moose.”

            “You should bring some for you. Your mother’s here.”

            “Is she? Good, I need to speak with her.”

            “I wouldn’t do that!” Sam got up. “Not—not for a while.”

            “What does this have to do with whiskey?”

            Sm reconsidered what he was about to do, but Crowley needed to know.

            “You’re gonna need it, trust me.”

            Crowley sat down. He snapped his fingers and a bottle of Craig appeared with two glasses. “Then I have a feeling you’re going to need it too. What’s happening?”

            “Rowena’s in a relationship.”

            Crowley took a sip. “So what?” Then he narrowed his eyes. “It’s not with your mother, is it?”

             “No. And not with Dean, either.”

            “Well considering the very _enthusiastic_ text I got from your brother last week, I should hope not. Then who?”

            Sam swirled the whiskey. “It’s Lucifer.”

            He leapt up from the table a moment later. Crowley was _smoking_ , the whiskey bubbling in the glass.

            “I’m sorry, Moose. Did I mishear you?”

            “Nope. Believe me, I wish I hadn’t seen it.”

            “Hells _bells_.” Crowley snapped larger glasses into existence and filled them both. “We’re going to need these.”

            *****

            Twenty minutes later Sam was howling at Crowley’s story.

            “You fucking _didn’t!”_

“Of course I did. The tosser wanted to be President, and even I don’t want his soul. I had to take something.”

            “But that—” Sam stopped laughing. Lucifer had entered the room, followed by Rowena.

            “Want an exit Sam?” Crowley asked, ignoring the newcomers.

            “Nope.”

            “I do.” Crowley vanished.

            “What’d you tell him for?” Rowena hissed.

            Sam got up, and was impressed by how steady he was on his feet. “I didn’t think—he’d wanna find out t’way I did.”

            “Sam—” Lucifer started.

            Sam shook his head. “Nope. Don’t wanna talk. I’m going to bed. This never happened.” He did look at Rowena. “You know what you’re doing for sure?”

            “A hundred percent, Samuel.”

            “Stop calling me that. That’s my grandpa. Killed him. Huge jerk.” Sam patted Rowena’s shoulder. “Enjoy your fucked up fucking, I’m tired. I’mma go wait for my girlfriend. That I kinda love a lot. Hope you love each other. Better that way.”

            And with that, he stumbled down the hall.

*****

            The next morning he woke up with Eileen perched on his chest.

            “Comfy?” he asked.

            Eileen nodded. _Why did you drink so much?_ She handed him a glass of water.

            As Sam sat up to drink it, he realized he didn’t need the Advil she offered him. His head was clear and apart from a dry throat, he felt fine.

            Then he remembered.

            “You don’t want to know.”

            _Are you sure?_

“One hundred percent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make this very clear, I think that even this version of Lucifer and Rowena have a pretty weird relationship. What I can promise is that they do both care about each other, and it will help them both grow as characters--Rowena in more ways than one :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	9. The Boy King's Reign, In Brief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a surprising consequence for Sam and Crowley drinking together, and it turns out that Sam can't quite outrun his destiny.   
> He can make it work for him, though.

            Breakfast was quiet that day. Dean and Cas were cuddling at the table, wrapped up in each other. Mom looked tired.

            “When did you two get home last night?” Sam asked, Eileen on his lap.

            “Not until eleven; getting a freezer was more work than I thought. I’m not surprised you were asleep.”

            Dean snorted. “Oh, Sammy was asleep when Cas and I got home. At like eight. What happened?”

            “I…uh…”

            “He was getting drunk with me.”

            Dean swore. “Crowley, knock that off.”

            The demon looked hurt. “You don’t mind it when your pretty-boy angel does it.”

            “That’s because he’s in love with me and wants me to be with him,” Cas said smugly.

            Sam gaped at Cas, who had a firm grip on Dean’s knee. Dean looked partly nervous, and partly turned on.

            Crowley just snorted. “Took you two long enough. Now, I need to speak with Sam, so shoo.”

            “Sorry, who are you?” Mom asked.

            “King of Hell, Ms. Winchester.” Crowley’s eyes flashed red. “Nice to see you back with your boys.”

            Sam blinked. It actually sounded like Crowley meant that.

            “I don’t care where you’re King of, this is our home. We don’t get told to ‘shoo’ in our home.”

             “Everything makes so much sense now,” Crowley sighed. “Very well.” He looked at Sam. “I don’t know what your brother’s told you about Hell recently.”

            “Apparently Lucifer endorsed you?” There were worse things that could happen.

            “Yes. But there’s a problem with a contender to the throne.”

            “Crowley, we can’t keep sorting out your—”

            “It’s you, Moose.”

            Sam froze. “What? No, that shit was settled ages ago, I don’t—”

            “Do you have any idea how the hierarchy works in Hell?” Crowley sighed. “No, of course you don’t. See, whoever’s in charge can be toppled by a show of force. That’s why when Lucifer was Caged the first time, the Princes of Hell took over.”

            “The Princes of Hell?”

            “You’re familiar with one, at least. Azazel?”

            Sam winced, and Mom put a hand over her mouth.

            “He chose you as his heir, Sam. When you didn’t step up, Hell was in chaos until Lucifer came in.”

            “And then you took over when he—when _we_ went into the Cage. Did you kill the other Princes?”

            Crowley shifted.

            “What?”

            “See, it’s possible that I didn’t actually win over them. It’s possible that they gave me the throne, in return for helping to get rid of Lucifer. Hypothetically, that counts as a victory.”

            “So you got _handed_ the throne.”

            “No one else was around to claim it,” Crowley snapped. “And I earned it by Hell’s standards. But then…”

            “Then Lucifer came back and—well.”

            “Treated me like a dog,” Crowley said with a grimace. “And then I was part of the effort to take him down.”

            “So what does this have to do with Sam?” Dean asked.

            “Sam’s his ally,” Eileen said.

            Sam looked at her. “What do you mean?”

            “As long as you were still fighting you were just a challenger. But you drank with him last night. That’s a sign of trust. And I can’t imagine that demons respect that all that much?”

            “It’s been going on longer than that.” Crowley sighed. “From the moment I signed on to team anti-Amara, we were allies, Sam. And your claim to the throne’s been stronger.”

            “You and Dean had a fling, though. Doesn’t that give him more of a claim?”

            Dean blushed. “What are you talking—”

            “Everyone knew, Dean. No one cares.” Sam looked at Crowley. “Well?”

            “The only time Dean’s ever challenged me was when he was a demon, and him regaining his soul broke his claim. Your claim is older, Sam. And now you have the right to rule Hell, if that’s what you want.”

            “I—”

            “Shut up!” Crowley hissed. “Let me finish. Whether you want to or not, right now you have the power to make decisions in Hell, and they will become law. Then, if you want, you can pass the throne on to someone else.”

            Sam met Crowley’s eyes. “Like you?”

            “Like me. But right now, you’re the King. I am yours to command.”

            Sam closed his eyes. His hands were trembling with shock. Part of him wanted to sign it over immediately. He still didn’t like Crowley, or really trust him. But he did trust one thing, and it was that Crowley kept his promises. And the part of him who’d once nearly completed the Trials told him that there was potential here, potential for some real good.

            “Let’s make a deal,” Sam said.

            “Sam, are you sure?” Cas asked.

            “Yeah, I am.” Sam looked at his family, held the hand of the woman he loved. “But I want your approval. Well, Crowley?”

            “Name your terms.”

            “My terms are as follows. You will keep the throne of Hell, and you have the choice of heir. ~~From here onwards, the King or Queen must name their successor when they t~~ I will endorse you and your heir, and whatever happens next…happens. I will withdraw my claim to the throne of Hell. In return…” Sam swallowed. For a second he swore he could feel it, feel all of Hell’s souls at the tips of his fingers, smell the hellfire smoke. “In return, demons cannot roam the earth, with the exception of crossroads demons. But crossroads demons cannot make deals with children, or anyone who does not understand what they’re agreeing to, or anyone who’s trying to save themselves or another from an undeserved fate. In addition, any demon who wants to become human again has that option, through being cured. This is offered immediately to anyone who is already in Hell and made a deal for good reasons.”

            “Who will be the judge of all of that?” Crowley asked.

            Sam hit on a name. “Bela. Is she still there?”

            “Oh yes. Not very active. She mostly helps with demonic orientation.”

            “Then offer the position to her. And the cure.”

            Crowley put his hands together. “You realize that would start to empty Hell.”

            “There will always be bad people,” Sam answered. “But people who will work for redemption are rarer. I know this won’t change everything, but it might make it more fair.”

            “And if Heaven sees our weakness and decides to obliterate Hell once and for all?”

            “That won’t happen,” Cas promised. “I will take care of that.”

            And Sam believed that, because even though Cas stayed on Earth most of the time now, he was welcome again in Heaven, and the angels were more at peace, having spoken with God.

            Crowley thought it over, and so did Sam, checking for loopholes. He looked at Mom and Dean first, and when they both nodded, looked at Eileen.

            Eileen chewed her hair. “What about if someone is really willing to go to Hell for someone, and Hell turns them down? Where can they go for help?”

            “I suppose that’s when prayer becomes important,” Crowley answered. “Or…I suppose demons could perhaps take a different kind of payment than souls?”

            “Like what?”

            “A lock of hair.”

            Sam’s own hair stood up on his neck. “For blood spells?”

            “No, for vessels.” At Sam’s surprised look, Crowley went on. “I’ve been working on that for a while; being able to make meatsuits so demons don’t have to keep finding human hosts every time they fancy a walk.”

            “Since when do demons care about wasting human life?”

            “Since when do humans care about giving demons a chance of salvation?” Crowley looked at Sam. “I accept your conditions…my King. And I will serve in the spirit of your commands. Are we agreed?”

            Sam nodded. Crowley came towards him, and he winced.

            “Fuck’s sake.” Crowley looked uncomfortable too. “Sorry about this, lass. I know he’s yours.”         

            “So do I.” Eileen kissed Sam’s cheek. “Go ahead.”

            Sam just avoided flinching from the sulphur, and kissed Crowley for a total of two seconds before pulling away. “We good?”

            Crowley snapped, and a contract appeared in his hand. Sam took it and read it carefully, somewhat relieved by the fact that there were no mistakes. He bowed his head. “Your claim is now solid, your Highness.”

            “Thank you, Sam. I’ll advise you of developments. We do have a deal.” Crowley looked around. “Is he…”

            “I don’t think so. I think he went out with—”

            Crowley vanished.

            “Wait, did you mean Lucifer?” Dean looked at him sharply. “Who’s he out with? Is that why you and Crowley were drinking?”

            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Fair enough.” Dean didn’t look completely convinced, but he turned his attention back to breakfast.

            Sam was playing with Eileen’s hair when a thought struck him and he laughed out loud.

            “What is it?” Mom asked.

            “You know, I was supposed to be the Boy King and lead the demons,” Sam replied. “I guess I did it at last.”

            “Destiny finds a way,” Cas said gravely. “Even when it’s a five second reign.”

            “Azazel’s probably spinning in Purgatory,” Dean chuckled. “You’re not really what he planned, are you?”

            “No,” Sam said.

            And for the first time since he’d found out about the demon blood, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Sam gets to be the King for a little while, and then he gets to go on his merry way. As it should be.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	10. New Deaths, New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed like things were going fine for a while, but today there are whispers.   
> And then a bang.

            “Okay. And he hasn’t called in three days? We’ll check it out. No, Bailey, stay put. We’ll let you know.” Mom put down the phone and sighed. “That’s another one.”

            Less than two weeks since Crowley had kissed Sam (which is how Dean referred to the event), the calls started coming in through the phone tree. In three days, six hunters had gone missing. While that shouldn’t be weird—it was an unfortunate part of the job—none of them were actually hunting.

            The supernatural front was decently quiet (demon activity going down had been a major part, but even ghost sightings were rare), and any active hunters on the phone tree were accounted for.

            The first group missing were three old timers in Chicago, driving to a music festival. They’d never arrived at the festival, and none of their phones were answered. They were known to go off grid, so no one had worried. But then Stephanie, a second-generation hunter, didn’t check in with her wife and daughter after an argument in New York.

            Now Jay was missing.

            “Where is Jay from again?” Sam asked, moving to the map. Mom and Jody had been busy organizing with the hunters on the phone tree, and Eileen’s contacts had added another layer. They’d made a whole map marking hunter bases and the current locations of the phone tree members. There were almost seventy markers on the map, and Sam beamed every time he saw it. The other hunters didn’t totally trust them yet, but being able to see how they were spread out, the way everyone was staying in contact…his dream of being able to connect the hunters into a real network, sharing information, advice and shelter was starting to seem real. He’d already started collecting some tips, and he was setting up a guide so answering questions from the library would be faster.

            First, they had to make sure people in the network were staying alive.

            “He’s from Bangor.” Mom came over too. “He went to visit his dad, but he hasn’t gotten in touch in three days.”

            “What about his dad?”

            “According to Bailey, she can’t reach Walt either.”

            Sam froze. “Walt?” He and Dean shared a look. “Wouldn’t be Walt Tucker, would it?”

            “Yes, why?”

            “Walt killed us,” Dean said bluntly. “Seven years ago.”

            Mom looked stunned.

            “The angels brought us back. They weren’t going to let us escape being vessels that easily.” Sam shivered, remembering the parade of memories. “It wasn’t a fun time. Wait—you don’t remember, Mom? That’s when we saw you.”

            Mom shook her head. “They must have wiped that memory. Well, if he killed my kids, I’m not too keen on looking for him. Or maybe I should find him. Have a little talk…”

            “We’ve got to find his kid first.” Sam looked at the map. “All these vanishings are on the East Coast.”

            “There hasn’t been a lot of activity there for a while.” Dean tapped the book he was reading. “Something doesn’t smell right.”

            “What if—” Eileen started, but she frowned. “No, that can’t be.”

            Sam felt his stomach sink. “It could be. If they know as much as they think they know—”

            “The Brits?” Dean chimed in. “Figured they all ran scared. And why would they go after humans?”

            “Hunters,” Mom said. “Hunters that have information about how things work here. Maybe they’re getting more aggressive.”

            “But come on,” Dean protested. “Fucking Lucifer told them to get lost. Aren’t normal people scared of archangels? Well, scared enough to do what they say?”

            Eileen took Sam’s hand. “What could kill Lucifer, Sam?”

            “Only his blade,” Sam answered automatically. The information had never been useful—he’d never gotten a chance, not once—but he knew it. “Or another archangel blade. Those are the only things that could kill him. Not even the—”

            And in that second, things made sense.

            “The Colt. They have the Colt.”

            “How? That thing went missing ages ago.”

            “That’s the only reason they could be so sure.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Think about it—we were damn sure we could do it.”

            “But if they’ve been torturing angels…” Cas swallowed.

            “Yeah, but did you know that it wouldn’t work?”

            “No. Rank and file angels weren’t exactly informed how to murder their generals.”

            “There you go. So they must have the Colt, or something like it, and they’re hunting Lucifer, thinking it will kill him.”

            “And they’re picking off hunters while they do that. Awesome.”

            Suddenly Cas crumpled to his knees with a shout. Dean was beside him in an instant. “Babe? Cas, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

            Cas looked up, and there was total shock in his eyes. “A Nephilim has just been conceived,” he whispered. “Every voice in Heaven just cried out about it.”

            “Aren’t Nephilim forbidden?” Dean asked.

            “They are. But this isn’t an ordinary one. This is an archangel’s child.”

            Sam blinked. “No damn way.”  

            “It’s Lucifer. He’s fathered a child.”

            No one spoke for a minute.

            “I didn’t know he was dating,” Dean said reflectively.  

            Sam swallowed. “I did. And this is going to get ugly real fast.”

            “Who’s the mother? Wait—is this why you were drinking with Crowley?” Dean narrowed his eyes. “Is Lucifer with _ROWENA?!_ What the fuck, he killed her?!”

            “That’s why Crowley and I were drinking.” Sam rubbed his face. “Well, that’s a problem. We don’t want the forces of Heaven coming after them too.”

            “Or the forces of Hell.”

            They all spun around. Lucifer and Rowena were standing in the doorway. Rowena’s dress was rumpled, and Lucifer’s shirt buttons were undone. They both looked sheepish.

            “What have you done?” Eileen asked them furiously. “Don’t you know to be more careful than that?”

            “In our defence, we were trying to be careful. Apparently conception works a bit…differently, with an angel.” Rowena looked up at Lucifer. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

            “Too much information.” Sam buried his face in his hands. “What do you mean, the forces of Hell?”

            “I just got a text from my son. They heard Michael yelling about it.” Rowena was doing her best to look dignified, but she wasn’t quite pulling it off. “I didn’t even know yet.”

            “What are you going to do?” Mom asked. “About…”

            “Well, I—I wasn’t much of a mother the first time, was I?”

            “No, you bloody weren’t.”

            “For fuck’s sake, we have a doorbell,” Dean snarled at Crowley.

            “This is more efficient, Squirrel.” Crowley glared at Rowena. “Mother, have you lost your mind?!”

            “Fergus, I know. I know.” Rowena wilted, and Lucifer put a hand under her arm. Sam had never seen Lucifer be so gentle, not even when he was pretending to be Jess.

            “The demons won’t touch you. I’m the King now, and they’ll obey my orders.” Crowley’s voice was gruff. “But this child…this child cannot be born.”

            “That’s not up to you, dog!” Lucifer snapped.

            “Don’t start that again.” Sam glared at them both. “Are you sure that Rowena’s pregnant?”

            Lucifer nodded. “I could feel it when it happened. She’s right. We’ve been careful, I swear. This was never supposed to happen.” He looked like he was balancing on the knife’s edge of terrified.

            “Well…” Sam took a deep breath. “There are options, Rowena, if that’s what you want—”

            “I don’t want an abortion, Samuel.”

            “He can’t make you carry—”

            “I don’t want an abortion,” Rowena repeated. “I don’t know what I’m doing, or what will happen, but I want this child.”

            Sam looked at Cas. “What’s going to happen?”

            “Nephilim are forbidden,” Cas said quietly. “Heaven will not stand for this, especially not from Lucifer.”

            “We might have bigger problems than Heaven.”

            Lucifer raised his eyebrows. “Bigger how?”

            “We think that the Brits are still in America, or at least they’ve got agents here. Hunters are going missing.”

            “So they’re just stupid. Why is this my problem? I already yelled at them once.”

            “We think they might have the Colt.”

            Lucifer went still. “Why do you think that?”

            “You scared them shitless, but they’re still here. They must think they have a way to kill you.”

            “The Colt won’t kill me.”

            “No. But they might think it does. And it will kill a lot of other things.”

            “Including your child, if I’m not mistaken,” Cas said quietly.

            Lucifer snarled, and Sam tried hard not to flinch.

            “They won’t take my child.”

            “You’re right. Rowena’s going to have to stay here, though. If they have _any_ idea that you have a kid, they’ll come for us. They’ll come for you too.”

            “But hang on, you can fight them,” Dean interjected. “Why are we worried?”

            “I can’t hurt humans. Any humans, no matter how evil.” Lucifer spat the words out. “I tried with child molesters. No dice. All I could do was get them caught. So I can’t protect Rowena in an attack.”

            “Then we’re going to have to make sure they don’t get here in the first place,” Sam said. He gestured to the map. “The only confirmed cases I have are the ones in the east, but they might start heading our way.”

            “Are these hunters dead?”

            “Missing, right now.” That was the worst part. Whatever the Brits had been planning to do to him, Sam knew they were probably doing the same to the missing.

            “I’m going to track them down, dead or alive.” Lucifer kissed Rowena’s cheek. “We’ll see what’s going on. And when I get back, we’re going to make a plan.” He looked at Castiel. “You were a Commander, right?”

            “Yes.”

            “Good. We’ll need that experience.” Lucifer started to glow, and his wings appeared behind him, six shadows against the door. “No damn mud monkeys are going to hurt my child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, when I said Rowena is growing in her relationship with Lucifer...this is what I meant :)   
> And just for warning's sake, I am disregarding most of the show's rules for Nephilim and substituting my own, because those were fridge rules essentially, and I'm not about that life.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	11. Here Come the Generals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Castiel are working together for the first time in millennia.

            When Lucifer came back, his face was grim and his arms were covered in blood.

            Some of it was coming from his vessel.

            “What happened?” Rowena asked sharply.

            “They’re all dead,” Lucifer said. He raised a hand and pointed at the three marks on the map. “All three of them. There was another man with the third, older. Apparently the Brits heard me coming, and fucked off before they could kill him. Said his name was Walt.”

            “That’s Jay’s father,” Sam whispered.

            “Yeah. He lived long enough to tell me that it was the Brits; that Rawlins kid and another one.”

            “Where are they?”

            “I did the improvised crematorium thing.” Lucifer met Sam’s glare. “That’s what you’re supposed to do for hunters, right? Besides, I don’t think anyone would have wanted to see their bodies. It wasn’t pleasant.”

            Sam shuddered.

            Rowena waved her hands over Lucifer’s arms, removing the bloodstains. She pressed a cloth to the scattered wounds. “What did this?”

            “I think when I was finding wood. It only hurt my vessel, I’m fine.”

            “So the Brits are murdering people. Fun.” Eileen pressed her lips together. “We’re going to have to take care of that.”

            “And do it before my child is born,” Rowena said.

            “Yeah, about that. How long—I mean, when’s the baby…due, I guess?” Mom asked uncertainly. “Is it the standard nine months, or…”  
            “More like three months,” Lucifer answered. “Right, Castiel?”

            “It varies,” Cas said. “But yes, it is generally three to four months. It might be longer for an archangel’s child.”

            “Right. I’m the first for that, aren’t I?”

            “You’ve forgotten another wrench in the works,” Crowley said. “Mother isn’t fully human.”

            That was news to Sam. “What do you mean?”

            Rowena smiled at him. “Oh, you sweet lad. I’ve been alive three hundred years, and I’ve given myself over to the Dark Arts. You start to lose your humanity along the way. I had to, or I’d look like an old crone.”

            “So we’ve got no frame of reference for how long this child will take to develop,” Cas muttered. “And a war on our hands. Brilliant.”

            Lucifer nodded. “Right. War. We need to start planning for that.” He looked at the map again. “There’s a lot of land to cover.”

            “There’s no way we can cover it all. There aren’t enough of us,” Dean argued. “Maybe we should just bring everyone here.”

            “Bunkering down won’t solve this problem, dearest.” Cas looked pensive. “If they are keeping tabs on the States, they’ll notice if dozens of people start heading here. On top of that, they do know a lot about this place; they got in before. It won’t be safe enough.”

            Sam looked at Eileen.

            “Don’t worry about this place,” Crowley muttered. “I know some of the Brits’ warding, I can put some new things in.”

            Everyone turned to look at him.

            “You knew about the Brits?” Dean snarled.

            “Of course I do,” Crowley snapped back. “Hell isn’t just America, idiot. There’s demon activity worldwide. Except in Britain, because…”

            “Because of the warding,” Sam interrupted. “And Hell’s just letting that stand?”

            “It’s an old agreement. Only crossroads demons are allowed there, and they don’t try to exterminate us.”

            “You’re telling me Hell is that afraid of some humans?” Dean said it like a joke, but his face was grim.

            “A deal was made,” Crowley said with a shrug. “We have to keep it. Besides, these aren’t typical humans. I know you pride yourselves on killing ‘evil sons of bitches’, but they take it to an entirely different level. Everything’s black and white for them, and anything black has got to go.”

            “So a diplomatic solution isn’t likely,” Eileen sighed.

            “Why would you want a diplomatic solution?” Rowena asked. “They’re already killing you.”

            “Pretty sure we’ve done that in the past,” Sam pointed out, remembering Dean going off to be a bomb. “But I agree with Rowena. This is going to be a fight. If it’s their way or the highway, we’d better get on the road.”

            “We need more information on this map,” Cas said, looking closer. “We need to keep eyes on them, ensure the safety of remaining hunters, try and keep hunters active, and develop a method of fighting them.”

            Lucifer snapped his fingers, and a giant box of markers appeared. “Let’s get going.”

            An hour later the map was covered in dots, lines, plane and boat symbols and a smiley face.

            Sam glanced at Eileen.

            “What? We’re trying to do something positive, a smiley face is totally appropriate.”

            Sam just shook his head.

            It was weird to watch Lucifer and Castiel work together. Sam had never seen them do anything but fight, but right now they were equals, and they balanced each other well. Cas knew more about the way humans considered problems, but Lucifer saw the bigger picture logistics, which was why the airports and ports were marked. “The Brits have an ocean to cross, so they’ll need to get here somehow. We can block portals if they have the capacity to do that, but we need to make sure they don’t get into this country without us knowing about it.”

            “We need to make sure hunters are ready to travel through the air too,” Mom pointed out. “In case we do have to bunker down.”

            “The closest airport is pretty far, and we’re pretty far west of most of the east.” Cas traced his fingers over the map. “It’s a couple days’ drive, and several hours’ flight.”

            “And people have lives, too. Jody and Donna are sheriffs; they can’t just leave.”

            “So we need more local safe points,” Lucifer concluded. “How far can a car drive in an hour?”

            “Depends on the car and the reason,” Dean said.

            “An average?”

            “Probably a hundred miles.”

            “Then none of your hunters should be farther than a hundred miles of a safe point. It doesn’t have to be complex; just somewhere where they can head if they’re in trouble. With any luck we’ll be able to give them an hour’s warning.”

            “What about the people who are already here?”

            Lucifer’s eyes glowed. “I would say leave them to me—”

            “I’ll take care of them.” Crowley looked at Lucifer. “After all, we had a deal, the British and Hell. And one of my demons hasn’t checked in for a while.”

            “You’re doing _welfare checks?”_

            “Sam’s concern inspired me,” Crowley said.

            “Or is it that if you keep track of them you know they aren’t plotting your demise?”

            “Both, I imagine,” Rowena said.

            “Hunt them down and bring them back here,” Dean suggested. “We can do some…counter-espionage tactics. Just take them down before they can phone home.”

            “Mom and I will get started on the phone tree,” Sam said. “Dean, Eileen, can you start getting some rooms ready? We need to be ready for guests.”

            Eileen nodded. _Can you make beds?_ She asked Dean. _I can do everything but that._

Dean laughed. He’d picked up ASL pretty fast. _I’ll teach you. You’ll have perfect hospital corners before you know it._

            Crowley nodded. “I’ll be back before nightfall.” He raised his hand to snap.

“Wait.” That was Rowena. She was looking at her son with gentle eyes. “Fergus—Crowley. Where is your son?”

            “My son? No idea what you’re talking about. My son died three hundred—”

            “No, he didn’t,” Sam interrupted. “You saved him.”

            “That might have happened.” Crowley sighed. “Very well. He’s somewhere safe. He has everything he needs, and he’s met a girl. Fiona. They’re happy.”

            “Is he your heir?”

            “He did want to be, at first,” Crowley said. “But he’s gotten used to the twenty-first century quickly, and I think he wants to enjoy it. He doesn’t want to run Hell. And I don’t think he’s got the heart for it.”

            “I’d like to meet him, someday,” Rowena said quietly. “But if he’s not your heir…who is, Fergus?”

            “I don’t have one yet. I’m planning to living to a sulphurous old age, Mother.”

            “Yes, but…with all you’ve done in Hell, it would be a shame to lose it.”

            Crowley’s mouth twitched. “You want this baby to be…to be my heir?”

            “They’ll be your half-sibling.”

            Crowley shuddered. “And _his_ child.”

            “What better way to keep power?” Lucifer said.

            Crowley looked at Sam. “You’re not interested?”

            “No way. Once was enough.”

            “Then I will think about it.” Crowley snapped and vanished.

            “Well.” Mom looked at Rowena and Lucifer. “Why don’t you two take some private time? This is—I remember being pregnant. It’s a lot to deal with, even the second time.”

            “Thank you, Mary. We…we do have a lot to talk about.” Rowena reached for Lucifer’s hand, and Sam watched in shock as Lucifer took it without thinking. He was still staring as the two left the room.

            “Sam, honey?”

            Sam looked at his mom. “I’ve never seen him like that. Not ever. And I’ve seen him…”

            Mom’s lips tightened. She knew about Sam’s time in the Cage, though not in any detail; Sam couldn’t bear to tell her all of it.

"He wasn't just torturing me, Mom. There were times when he'd leave me alone, and he was with Michael." Sam shivered at the memory. "And after they stopped fighting...I saw him be loving, I saw him being kind. But nothing like that."

Mom touched his face. "Children change people," she said at last. "Maybe he's taking the  chance to be better." She lowered her voice. "Are you still willing to let him have that chance?"

Sam knew what she was asking, but he shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I want right now. If he's helping because of his kid...who cares, right? He's helping. That's all that matters."

"This isn't easy for you, is it?" Mom asked.

            "No, it's not," Sam answered. "But I can  deal with it. He can't hurt me, and he's...figuring out his own life. I'm okay with that."

"Really?"

"Do I sometimes dream about hurting him?" Sam asked. "Of course I do. He did terrible things to me and my family, and I hate him. I wouldn't mind him suffering. But I...I don't really need that. I just need to know that he can't hurt my family or anyone else."

Mom patted his shoulder. "You change your mind, let me know. Let's get to work, honey. We can get things set up, and then worry about the future."

There were plenty of times that Sam didn't like working with hunters, but this wasn't one of them. After all, they were generally paranoid nomads with at least one safe place, even if that safe place might mean driving their truck to a small trailer park and staying inside the warded vehicle. It didn’t take long to explain the situation, or the safeguards. Most of them told Sam they were just going to head to the safe house right away, because it was closer to where they were hunting anyways.

Sam hesitated about telling people that the Devil was a father-to-be, but Mom jumped right in. “Can you believe it?” she said. “He was willing to start the damn Apocalypse a few years ago because of humans, and now he’s knocked one up!”

Sam saw Lucifer wander by the door when Mom was in the middle of that spiel, and Sam saw his glare. He put a hand over his Mom’s, and glared right back.

By the time they were through the first three layers of the phone tree, Eileen and Dean were back. “Everything’s clean,” Dean reported. “I’m going to get some food going. Anyone up for mac and cheese?”

“With broccoli,” Eileen and Sam said together.

“Then I’m putting in chicken too.” Dean rubbed his face. “Everything’s okay so far?”

“Everyone’s been passing the word around.” Mom frowned. “I wish we knew a little bit more about what they’re planning. Beyond extermination, obviously.”

“Is there more that we need to know?” Sam asked.

“How they’re planning on doing it could be useful. And maybe what would make them back off?”

“I think this one could answer that.”

Crowley stood in the doorway of the library, with his hand firmly on the shoulder of a scared looking man with dark hair.

“Apparently his name’s Mick,” Crowley said. “And he’ll be glad to help us.”


	12. Some King's Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick Davies needs to prove his worth, but he's always been a capable man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this title and the last were Hamilton references. "Right Hand Man" is one of my favourite songs from that musical.

            “Are you comfortable?” Sam asked their prisoner.

            They hadn’t done anything serious to Mick; there didn’t seem to be a need. Cas, Crowley, and Rowena had all checked and found no weapons, and no magic of any kind. The man was tied to a chair in the dungeon, but the knots weren’t that tight.

            “Perfectly,” Mick answered.

            “You shouldn’t be,” Mom said. Her eyes were sparking. “That’s not a courtesy you extended to the four hunters you’ve murdered.”

            “I had no part in—”

            “Terry. Hugh. Jay. Walt.  Those are their names. You know what happened to them.”

            Mick bowed his head. “Yes, I do.”

            “So it doesn’t really matter if you actually killed them or not,” Mom said. “At least not to us. Right now you’re an enemy, and you’ll be treated that way.” In a completely different tone, she went on. “Cas, do you want to go help Dean with supper?”

            Cas, whose glare was directed squarely at Mick’s shifting eyes, nodded and left the room.

            Sam brought his hands together. He was used to playing good cop. “Mick, you said you wanted to help? You were the one on the phone, right?”

            “Yes. I was telling the truth, then. We can argue about how we deal with monsters another day, but I don’t like the idea of killing humans. That’s not what we’re supposed to do.”

            “Tell us what you’re planning.”

            “I’m not planning anything! I told you, I--”

            “Your organization, you idiot.”

            “Ah. Well, I assume you already know their plans to…well, _assimilate_ American hunters into our way of doing things. That’s what they call it.”

            “I’ve heard that word used in other contexts,” Sam answered. “It’s usually not a good one.”

            “No, and it isn’t here. Fact is, the higher-ups want to expand our operations. Britain is on lockdown from monsters—”

            “No it isn’t.” Eileen stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. “My parents were killed by a banshee in 1985. County Cork, Ireland. I grew up hunting monsters all over Ireland.”

            Mick hesitated. “I’m…well. I’m sorry to hear about that. Ireland is a special case. We try, but some parts are just too wild.”

            “Then how the fuck can they claim that Britain’s on lockdown?” Eileen snarled.

            “Except for the North it’s part of the United Kingdom, not Britain proper—”

            Eileen slapped him.

            Sam put a hand out to her. _Sweetheart_ , he signed. _Do you need to take a walk?_

Eileen shook her head, eyes stormy. She looked away from Mick.

            “I think you can see where we’re coming from,” Sam told Mick. “Your organization isn’t doing things well in their own sphere. All of that torture, all those deaths…”

            “You don’t know the half of it.” Mick’s eyes were dull. “If anyone breaks the code of the Men of Letters, they’re killed. We learn that at school. Killing a friend is our final exam. I know what I’m getting into by doing this, but what they’ve done already is too much for me. The things the Inquisitors did—” he choked off.

            Sam took Eileen’s hand, and she didn’t draw away. “Mick, if you want to help, that’s a good step. That’s a good thing. And we’ll do what we can to protect you. We just have to make sure you’re on the level first.”

            “How are you going to do that?” Mick asked. He looked nervous. “I have extensive training in anti-interrogative measures, so you’ll never be able to be sure I’m telling the truth.”

            “We can’t. But he can.” Sam raised his voice. “Lucifer? You can come in now.”

            Mick’s eyes widened as Lucifer threw the door open and stalked towards him. Sam put himself between the two. “I said no violence.”

            Lucifer glared at him. “You’re no fun.”

            “Neither are you.”

            Lucifer rolled his eyes. He looked at Mick. “Michael Davies, are you telling the truth?”

            “Yes, I am.” The Brit was sweating. “What the hell are you playing at? That’s _Satan.”_

“Really?” Sam asked. “I had no idea. He’s also the Father of Lies, you know.”

            Lucifer studied Mick. “He’s telling the truth,” he said at last. “He does want to help. He won’t betray you.”

            “How do they know you won’t?” Mick asked, tilting his chin up. “You were going to destroy the world.”

            “Okay, not only was that seven years ago, but more importantly, things have changed.” Lucifer bent down so he was eye to eye with Mick. “Your group thinks they can destroy me. They can’t, but they could destroy the people I do care about. If I’ve learned anything from my vessel, it’s that you do whatever it takes to protect the people you love. Which apparently includes working with _humans_.”

            Mick shook his head slightly. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

            “I’m bored,” Lucifer announced. “Go ahead with the planning, you three. I’ll go speak with Rowena about prenatal care.”

            Mick mouthed _prenatal?_ as Lucifer left the room, leaving the door open.

            “Lucifer’s going to be a father soon,” Sam explained.

            “Jesus Christ _Almighty_.”

            “I don’t think he is, actually. There’s a lot of different powers out there. Hell, there’s God and Amara, and that’s just the Judeo-Christian pantheon.”

            “Who’s the mother again?”

            “Rowena Macleod. She’s—”  
            “An extremely powerful witch,” Mick said. “I know. We’ve kept tabs on her too.” He shook his head. “That child is going to be bloody _powerful._ ”

            “Not the point right now,” Eileen said. She’d calmed down somewhat. “Tell us what you know about what the Brits are planning, and what you’re willing to do to stop them.”

            “Ten minutes until supper!” Dean called down the hall.

            “Sounds like you have ten minutes,” Sam said.

            Mick took a deep breath. “Well, there are already ‘sleeper agents’ of a sort…”

           

            When they returned to the kitchen, Dean looked at them curiously, the mac and cheese in his hands.

            “He gave us a lot,” Sam reported. “He might deserve supper.”

            Eileen took a big sniff. “I don’t know about that. It smells delicious.”

            Sam patted her shoulder as they sat down. “It looks like they’re trying to do a stealth operation. Picking hunters off one by one, they hoped it would scare us into submission.”

            “Why do people think that?” Dean sighed, passing plates of food down. “It only ever makes us angry.”

            “They also want to stay in the East,” Sam continued. “They have more operatives there, and since you and I are still fugitives from the law, they figured it would be too far away for us to do anything quickly.”

            “They’re not counting on Mom’s phone tree.” Dean grinned, but it faded quickly. “So what do we do? Are you sure he’s on the level?”

            That was addressed to Lucifer, who wasn’t sitting at the table. He was standing in the door of the kitchen, looking pensive.

            “Mick? Oh, yes. He’s been cracking under their rule for ages. This is giving him an excuse. He has morals they couldn’t beat out of him.”

            “So how do we use him?” Eileen asked. “Could he be a hostage?”

            Sam’s eyes darted to her. “Eileen, honey.”

            Eileen sighed. “I know, Sam. I’m sorry. But if he’s the best of them, or whatever…he’s still not good. I can’t stand these people. If they were doing their jobs as well as they say they are, my parents would be alive. And they have the gall to try and destroy us?”

            “I’ve known hunters like that,” Sam said quietly, remembering Gordon Walker. “Sometimes people are so sure they’re right they can’t bear the idea of being wrong. If I had to guess, I’d think that Mick wasn’t the only one who doesn’t like it, but they are getting results. I don’t think the ends justify their means, and you don’t think so either. But having a whole country with no monsters…that sounds amazing. But it doesn’t include monsters who are people.”

            “Like Bobby John and Rhonda,” Eileen said. She sighed. “I’ll try to be calm.”

            “Oh, you don’t have to be calm.” Sam squeezed her hand. “But try to be angry at the right people. If you’re not…sometimes you end up lashing out at the wrong people.” He didn’t dare look at Lucifer.

            “And that ends up messy for everyone,” the archangel said. “I think him being a hostage is a waste of time—you’ve seen how much they “value” human life. Send him back to them as a double agent.”

            “What good will that do?” Mom asked. “What information can we even give him?”

            “Hunters,” Sam breathed. He looked at Lucifer. “Is that what you were thinking?”

            “It’s what Rowena thinks,” Lucifer corrected him. “She’s not feeling very well. She’s lying down. But I agree. Choose some hunters who can act—definitely none of you—and let Mick be their beard, or whatever. And start feeding false information to the Brits.”

            “How long do you think that could buy us, Cas?” Dean asked, deliberately not looking at Lucifer.

            “Depending on success…we might get a few weeks. Long enough for us to bear up our defenses and try to figure out more offensive tactics.”

            “Then he gets to have supper,” Eileen said. She dished up a plate. “I’ll bring it. I’ll be nice.” She patted Sam’s head as she left.

            “Bring a fork!”

            Eileen groaned. “Fine.”

            “Is it really fair to send him back?” Sam asked after a few mouthfuls of broccoli. “We’ve already seen what they’re willing to do to humans.”

            “Free will, remember?” Lucifer said. “If he wants to fucking walk back and play the double agent, let his dumbass do it.”

            “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but Lucifer is right,” Mom said. She looked disgusted with herself. “You heard him—he asked Crowley to bring him here. He knows what he’s getting into.”

            “Plus we’re not giving him any information to protect, are we?” Dean pointed out. “Just false information. He won’t be a risk even if they do decide to…well.”

            “Torture him until he confesses?”

            “Yeah. That.”

            Eileen came back and slung her arms around Sam’s shoulders. “I think we should send him back now. He already finished eating, and he’s due to call in soon.”

            “Were you nice?” Sam asked.

            “Very. Promise.”

            Dean got up. “I’ll call Crowley. Guess it’s time to let 00-7 back to his people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, is Mick going to be able to hold it together?   
> Is Eileen?   
> And what is a pregnant Rowena like?   
> Tune in three days from now to find out!  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	13. Revelations, Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the months go on, there's quite a bit of success on the BMOL side...and Sam finds out something he never imagined.

            To everyone’s shock, Mick wasn’t a good double agent.

            Mick was a _fantastic_ double agent.

            With a few well-placed hunters (including Roy, who came as close as he could to apologizing before swearing to avenge his buddy), Sam watched as Mick wove a complete web of words, protecting the hunters with a few smart calls. The Brits seemed to accept the ‘defecting’ hunters, and believed them every time they said they ‘hated people’ and ‘all good hunters work alone’. They went on trial hunts for the Brits (and actually wiped out a few major problem areas), “spied” on the other hunters, and they had all the money they wanted (which got filed under ‘whiskey’, and went to setting up shelters for other hunters). The weeks Cas had predicted turned into a month, and then two months. In fact, three months passed without major incident.

            Well, there were no major incidents with the Brits.

            There were a few incidents with the pregnant witch, however.

            Apparently Nephilim pregnancies were notoriously difficult. Not only was the woman carrying a child that contained actual Grace, but the timeline was condensed to a third.

            “I thought that might be easier,” Sam muttered to his Mom. They both stood watching Rowena scream at Lucifer, throwing curses around the room. Lucifer was catching every last one of them, moving in utter silence.

            Mom shook her head. “Maybe she’ll be grateful when it’s over, but from what I remember, at least with nine months you have time to get used to things. She’s going from one stage to the next overnight.”

            Sam went to get more honey. They were running low.

            He and Eileen had pretty well taken over the communications part of the network—Dean and Cas were working with hunters close by to shore up strongholds. They came back one day bright red in the face.

            “So Jody and Donna are together,” Dean grumbled.

            “Really? That’s awesome! Why are you upset?”

            “The brats.”

            “Alex and Claire?”

            Cas sighed. “Apparently they didn’t realize that Jody and Donna becoming partners was a recent development. They also didn’t know that we were—”

            “Did they get the same impression I did?” Mom asked as Sam burst out laughing.

            Dean flipped them both off, and then blushed more deeply. “Sorry, Mom.”

            “Yes, Mary.” Cas’ cheeks were still red. “Claire wanted to extend her admiration, Sam. She couldn’t believe that you haven’t “locked us both in the closet since we like it so much.””

            “I need to talk to Jody about raising their allowances,” Sam said thoughtfully.

            Eileen saved Sam from being leapt on by both Dean and Cas. “I just finished the books,” she said. “I found it.”

            Humour fled.

            The books were the big records of the American Men of Letters. After realizing that there were no other legacies, Eileen went deeper, looking for the source of the schism between the branches.

            “What did you find?” Sam asked.

            “Apparently the schism was older than the Americans being slaughtered.” Eileen was signing as she spoke, a sign she was agitated. “They haven’t worked together since before the first World War.”

            “The American Men of Letters were in Europe during World War II,” Dean objected.

            “So were American troops. But there’s no record of any projects together.” Eileen took a deep breath. “It looks like the Americans and the British branches split after the Canadian branch was destroyed.”

            “Destroyed?” Sam said sharply. “What do you mean?”

            “I mean destroyed. Completely. At the time, Canada was still new as a country, right? And the British Men of Letters were starting a solid branch there. Some of the Americans came up to help too.”

            “What happened?”

            “The notes are messy, but it looks like the Canadians were getting too…friendly with some of the local monsters. They wanted to try rehabilitation projects, territory agreements…one woman even married a dryad.”

            “And the Brits didn’t like that.”

            Eileen shook her head. “They found out the woman gave birth to the dryad’s baby, and they went ballistic. The Americans tried to suggest different kinds of action—even punishing the woman and dryad. But the Brits wiped out all the operatives, broke every treaty…they didn’t spare a single person, even the newborn. Not even the visiting Americans; apparently they were deemed ‘infected’.”

            Sam’s whole body shook with disgust.

            “How could you justify that?” Mary asked. “Damn it, I’m a hunter—I grew up in the life! My dad never spared a monster, not even young ones, but that’s…that’s something else entirely.”

            “They’re too black and white,” Cas said. “They’ve taken on a mission with one purpose: to eradicate monsters. Anyone who stands in their way is an obstacle. They don’t deserve to exist.”

            “Who wrote about this, Eileen?”

            “The lover of one of the American men. He kept a lot of the records, and—God, his handwriting is so neat everywhere except these three pages.” Eileen’s face crumpled. “After that, the Americans had one rule—none of their hunters were allowed to kill people: anyone who could tell the difference between right and wrong and tried to do the right thing. Anyone who failed that would be punished.”

            “Lovely.” Sam pushed his hair out of his face.

            “It could explain why they’re being so aggressive,” Mom said thoughtfully. “A hundred years might be nothing to them.”

            Sam swallowed. He knew all about meaningless centuries.

            “It doesn’t change anything,” he said at last. “It can’t. We know what we have to do, so let’s keep on doing it.”

            Eileen nodded. “How’s Rowena?”

            “She and Lucifer are…talking.” Sam really hoped they were talking and not fighting. He was getting really tired of being woken up by the arguments. They seemed to keep happening right outside his room.

            “She’s due soon, isn’t she?” Dean groaned. “How the hell are we going to take her to the hospital with an angel-baby? She’s already glowing off and on.”

            “I’m not a firefly, Winchester,” Rowena snapped as she walked in. Her stomach was huge now, but she still looked every inch the capable witch. “And we can’t go to the hospital. There’s no warding there.”

            “Do you think delivering your child will be safe here?” Cas asked. He put a hand on Rowena’s stomach.

            The fact that Rowena (and Lucifer) were letting him do that at all was amazing, but three days ago Cas had stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and stared at Rowena—well, at her stomach.

            “Your child is happy,” he said out of the blue. “They’re…calling to me.”                               

            Apparently the little one had latched onto Cas. It was clearly bothering Lucifer, but he was able to communicate with his kid too, so he dealt with it.

            “The warding here should be enough to hold the force of my child’s birth.” Lucifer reached into thin air, and some silver signs appeared. “I might add more.”

            “How…how dangerous is the birth?” Mom asked hesitantly. “I had a really tough time with Dean.”

            “You did?”

            “Oh yeah. I was on oxygen for part of it.” Mom patted his hand. “Pregnancy’s not easy, honey, and neither is the end.”

            “Rowena will be fine,” Lucifer replied. “I will be here, and…so will Castiel. We can restrict the damage to a minimum, and she will be healthy.”

            Rowena gasped, her hand going to her back. Lucifer turned to her. “Ro?”

            “Just a spasm.” Rowena’s face twisted with pain.

            “I’m sorry I can’t help.” Lucifer’s frustration was clear, but he was right. For some reason he couldn’t alleviate any of Rowena’s symptoms beyond the morning sickness at the beginning.

            “Not to worry. Cup of Mary’s tea and I’ll be fine.” Rowena smiled weakly. “It’s my penance, of course. For being such a terrible mother the first time around.”

            “That’s not how that works,” Lucifer said, helping Rowena into a chair. “It’s not penance unless you choose it. This would be punishment. And it isn’t, love.”

            _The Cage was both,_ Sam thought. But he didn’t say it, because right now Lucifer was kneeling by Rowena with real gentleness in his eyes, one hand in hers and the other over her now-glowing stomach.

            He could let them have this moment.

            *****

            “What the fuck did you mean before?”

            Sam looked around. Lucifer was watching him. The archangel looked genuinely confused, the way Cas used to look when Dean was teaching him human things.

            “When?” Sam swallowed. He had a guess what Lucifer meant, but really didn’t want to have this discussion right now.

            Lucifer wasn’t letting it go. “You thought the Cage was both penance and punishment. What did you mean?”

            “Get out of my head!”

“I can’t help it when you’re _shouting.”_

 Sam started to pile the books. He couldn’t have empty hands. He couldn’t let them shake. _He can’t hurt you, he can’t hurt you…_ But he didn’t believe that, no matter how hard he’d tried in the last few months. Physical hurt? No, Lucifer would have done that already. But there was too much painful history between them, and it would only take a little bit of pressure before all the fear, all the pain, would come back.

            Maybe answering would make him go away.

            “I started the Apocalypse. I almost killed my brother and trusted a demon over anyone in my family. Everyone who died before Stull Cemetery is my fault, because if I hadn’t been so stupid, you wouldn’t have been freed. Saying yes…in the end, it was a chance at redemption. A chance to stop future harm.” Sam pressed on his hand. “Everything that happened in there, all of it, that was the price I had to pay to fix my mistakes. I deserved it. That doesn’t mean I forgive you, but—”

            “You are the most arrogant, self-centered person I have ever met. And I have met _God and the Darkness.”_

Sam shuddered, turning to face Lucifer. One look at the archangel’s face told him how furious he was. There was no light in his face, no sneer. His blue eyes were empty of anything but rage.

            “I don’t understand.”

            “No, of course you don’t.” Lucifer shook his head. “You’ve got your head too far up your ass for that.”

            “What—”

            “It’s interesting. You and the rest of Team Free Will are so big on that, right? All about the freedom of choice and fuck destiny, all that jazz.” Lucifer glared at Sam. “Did you ever think that other beings have those rights, too?”

            Sam stared.

            “I set off the Apocalypse because I wanted to. Michael did his part because he wanted to, and he led the charge on twisting you and Dean up into nice little Vessel pretzels before you ever met Ruby. How do you think you died, that first time? That wasn’t Azazel’s plan. He thought you were supposed to live. But no, Jake needed a little twist of angelic pressure, and he stabbed you. I’m pretty sure Uriel did it himself.” Lucifer took a step forward. “I made sure that Ellen and Jo Harvelle died, because I wanted to make you feel alone. Angels and demons picked a side, and they fought because they wanted to. And when you won our little wager, and it was just the three of us in that Cage…” Lucifer stepped forward. “I hurt you because I wanted to. I was angry, and I was a sore loser, and Michael was furious that he was in with the bad son. We tortured you, burned you, tore you apart because we _wanted_ to. We _chose_ that.”

            Sam swallowed hard.

            “There was no justice in that Cage, Sam.” Lucifer’s Voice was coming through, just enough to make Sam’s skin crawl. “There was no mercy, there was no order, there was no _Word._ It was two powerful beings taking out their rage on a creature they despised. Who they hated because despite how inferior he was, he beat them. He was _right.”_

Sam couldn't speak.

"You didn't deserve a fucking minute of that," Lucifer said. "Do I regret it? Not really, because I did what I wanted. But it wasn't penance, Sam. Or punishment. It was torture for torture's sake."

There was a long pause.

"I don't know if that helps..." Lucifer's voice trailed off. "Sorry. I'll leave you alone to process that.”

Sam was unspeakably grateful for that, because his legs were shaking so badly he couldn't stand. The moment Lucifer was out of the room, he sat down at the table, buried his face in his arms, and sobbed.

_I didn’t deserve it._

For the first time in over two hundred years, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one's a bit harshly emotional, but Lucifer is 100% telling the truth. And that's what Sam needed to hear.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	14. M-I-C-K I-S- I-N S-H-I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick doesn't pick up his phone. He's a bit...tied up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is meant to be sung along to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse song.

            Three days before Rowena was due to deliver, Sam sent a routine text to Mick—an innocuous ‘what are your plans’ text that prompted a daily report—and received no answer.

            Sam gave it ten minutes, and then called the number.

            Voice mail.

            Next were the other three numbers they had for Mick; first a text, then a call.

            No answers on any of them.

            “We have a problem,” Sam announced.

******

            Mick heard every single one of the text tones, and all of the calls. Unfortunately, he was tied to an iron chair, and couldn’t answer.

            Dr. Hesse and Rawlings stood in front of him. Both had their arms crossed, and both had their lips pressed tightly together.

            In other words, this was about to get messy. And painful.

            “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Dr. Hesse asked.

            “No,” Mick answered. There was nothing to say at all, really. His network had reached the point where it could continue on without him, and he’d been well trained by the Men of Letters to resist interrogation. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to rape. Rawlings was fond of it with prisoners of any gender, and he took sadistic pleasure in playing on every one of his victims’ kinks and then twisting them into agony.

            Nonetheless, he would endure. He’d chosen a side.

            To his surprise, neither of them moved a muscle. Instead, the door swung open, and Toni Bevell came in, wheeling a TV stand with a large flat screen. She didn’t look at Mick; she just handed Dr. Hesse a remote and left.

            “You’ve done quite a thorough job of manipulating our intelligence, Michael,” Dr. Hesse said. She switched on the television. “We’ve gotten a completely inaccurate picture of the American hunters and their whereabouts.”

            “Where did I go wrong?” Mick asked politely.

            “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’ve trained you well. No, you slipped up because your chip wasn’t where it was supposed to be when you called in. I believe you said you were calling from Connecticut? You were actually in Massachusetts.”

            Mick cursed.

            “Language, Michael.”

            “Apologies, ma’am. In my defense, New England becomes confusing.”

            “That was all we needed to see that something was wrong. A few more small inaccuracies, and…well. You shouldn’t have come back here.”

            “It was only to make sure you thought I was following orders.” Mick sighed. “What now? Torture? You know I broke the record for Interrogation, right? And you have nothing to use against me.” No boyfriend, no kids, and both parents were dead. Mick liked it that way. You only had to look at Toni and her son to know the old men could take any joy and twist it into pressure.

            “Oh, there’s not much point in that,” Dr. Hesse agreed. “No, Mick, we simply thought it would be fun for you to watch as we wipe out the American hunters.”

            Mick just stared at her. Their plans were in place. She didn’t know everything; she couldn’t.

            “We were already working on a portal to Kansas,” Dr. Hesse explained. “But we discovered last night—along with your treachery—that portals are being monitored in America, and even mostly blocked. The barrier stinks of the Devil’s work.”

            “Then you know how mad it is to go up against an archangel’s work.”

            Dr. Hesse’s lips curled. “Rowena MacLeod still has enemies. One of them is in our pay as an…informant.”

            “Traitor to her kind,” Mick corrected her.

            “What does that make you?”

            “You’re plotting to murder humans.”

            “A gang of violent idiots who are threatening our progress. But I’ve digressed. The witch told us that Rowena is pregnant with the Devil’s spawn, and she’s nearly due.”

            “Lovely. A little Antichrist. How does that help you?”

            “Our research into angels a few years ago…you remember, don’t you? How many of them did you kill? Well, it revealed a few scraps of information about Nephilim, particularly what happens when the mother goes into labour.”

            Mick controlled his expression, but some of his confusion must have leaked through, because Dr. Hesse smiled.

            “In order for the mother to survive the birth, the father must focus his Grace upon mother and child for the full extent of labour.” Dr. Hesse bared her teeth. “The moment Rowena starts to deliver, his barriers will crack. We’ll brute force them with portals until we get through. Rawlings’ squad is ready.”

            “And you’re just going to assault the Bunker?” Mick asked. “That’s ambitious even if the Devil’s out of commission.”

            “Oh no. We’re not going to Kansas now. We’re going to South Dakota. A city called Sioux Falls.”

            Mick’s heart dropped. He’d met Jody Mills and her adopted daughters and her very cheerful girlfriend. He knew that she was hiding several families of hunters—civilian husbands and wives, children— in and around the city.

            “Rawlings’ squad will have Go-Pros,” Dr. Hesse said. She pointed the remote at the TV and turned it on. A clear, crisp picture (nothing less than 4K for the Men of Letters) of over a hundred men in full kit came through.

            “I thought you might like to watch,” Dr. Hesse said. “After all, you should see what your work has done.”

*******

            Rowena gasped as she came out of scrying, a hand going to her belly. Lucifer’s hand was trembling on her head. He’d seen everything, heard everything, and shown it to the others. The room was deadly quiet.

            “What can I do?” Rowena moaned. “This child is soon to come, I remember the feeling.”

            “You will be safe,” Lucifer swore.

            “You will, Rowena.” Mary Winchester set her jaw, and looked so much like her younger son Rowena might have laughed. “Lucifer isn’t the only one here who can fight.”

            “But they are coming through,” Dean said. He started to pace. “If they get into Sioux Falls, people are going to die. We need as many people as we can.”

            Eileen yanked up the map of where the network were hiding. “There are seventeen hunters within a hundred miles. We can call them in, and start calling in the others.”

            “But how long do we have?” Sam asked. He looked the most worried—the news about Lucifer’s fluctuating power disturbed him. “Rowena do you have any idea when the baby will be born?”

            “I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

            “It’s within two days,” Lucifer whispered quietly. “I know that much for sure. I can’t see anything more specific.”

            “Then we need to get moving.” Sam put his hands together. “Mom, can you call Jody?”

            “I will fly to her.” Castiel came into the room, his face grim. He’d gone to double check that Mick’s capture hadn’t hurt anyone else. “I’ll warn the hiding families as well.”

            “I’ll get started on the hunters,” Sam said, phone already in hand. “Honey, can you start getting go bags ready? I’ll come and help once I’ve called everyone.”

            “Sure.” Eileen grabbed her keys. “I’ll start with the cars.”

            “I need to make a call,” Dean said. His tone of voice was strange, but Rowena let it pass. Her child kicked her hard, harder than Fergus ever had, but it didn’t hurt.

            _Hold on, wee one. Hold on just a little while longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left! Can our heroes wrap everything up in that time?  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	15. Lucifer's Labour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins with the British Men of Letters, and Rowena goes into labour.

            Sam grabbed hold of the last knife he could find. It felt sickening, realizing that the weapons were going to be used against humans, but they had to face it; the Brits were ready to wipe them out. If they had to fight their own kind for once, then that was what they had to do.

            He wasn’t going to take lives if he could help it, but he had a half-dozen strong reasons to _not_ help it.

            “Are you nearly ready?”

            Sam turned. Lucifer stood in the doorway, his blade in a sheath on his arm.

            “What are you doing?”

            “I’m going with you.”

            Sam slowly put his knife down. “What about Rowena?”

            “I’ve already established a connection with her. I can reach her with my Grace from very far away. You have to remember I’m a lot…larger than you can perceive in this dimension.”

            “Oh, I remember.” Sam shuddered. “Don’t you…I mean, it’s your kid. Don’t you want to be there for the birth?”

            “I want to make sure there is a birth,” Lucifer replied, his tone going darker. “These _people_ are threatening my woman and my child. Do you think they will hesitate to kill either of them?”

            “No. But it won’t come to that.”

            “Forgive me if that doesn’t fill me with supreme confidence.”

            “Wait. But you can’t…you can’t harm humans.”

            “Right. I was supposed to pass along the message. Ro managed to do one more scrying session. They aren’t just bringing human forces.”

            “What?!”

            “Apparently they’ve been breeding useful ones. Vampires, shifters, even rugarus. They’re going to all come through at the same time.”

            Sam buried his face in his hands. “That’s just great. Fucking hypocrites.”

            “Yes. So I can fight them and leave the mud monkeys to…well, the other mud monkeys.”

            “Again, you knocked one up.”

            “Rowena is…different.” Lucifer considered him. “I suppose the last few months have given me a bit more…perspective on what humans can do. What you are like.”

            “And what’s your conclusion?”

            “You’re more like my Father than I once thought. For good and bad reasons.” Lucifer turned. “Come on, we need to get to Sioux Falls.”

            Sam took a deep breath, slipped the knife into his belt, and followed the archangel out.

********

            Dean and Cas were still staring at each other when Sam got to the garage. They were holding each other, so there was some improvement from other times, but it was still uncomfortable.

            Mom grabbed hold of him, and Sam hugged her as tight as he could.

            “Please be careful, Sammy.”

            “I will Mom. I promise. We’ll be back before you know it.” Sam looked at Rowena, who was wincing. “Look after each other, alright?”

            Rowena rolled her eyes. “I’m having a child, Samuel. I survived it three hundred years ago, I can do it again.”

            “Here’s hoping you stick around longer this time.”

            “Crowley?”

            The King of Hell was in their garage, his hands in his pockets.

            “Squirrel told me you’re in a spot of trouble,” Crowley answered. “Because of the Devil spawn?”

            Lucifer glared at Crowley. “Beat it, dog.”

            “Lucifer,” Rowena warned him. “He is my son.” She turned her own glare on Crowley. “Fergus, you shouldn’t talk so rudely about your heir.”

            “Apologies, Mother. That’s how I refer to them in Hell.” Crowley shrugged. “I’ve come to offer my services.”

            “What are you thinking?” Mom asked.

            “There are people who need to get to Sioux Falls, correct? I’m making sure they arrive there more swiftly.”

            “So you’re giving them a Highway from Hell?” Dean asked with a grin.

            Cas groaned.

            “Yes, that’s precisely what I’m doing.” Crowley’s eyes turned red for a moment. “Many of them are nearly there. Where are you planning to meet them?”

            Sam swallowed. “Where Singer Salvage used to be.”

            He’d driven past it when he and Dean weren’t speaking, after the angels fell. The salvage yard was still there, some of the cars damaged beyond repair. He finally got up the nerve to ask Jody, and she told him that she’d left it the way it was. “I know it wasn’t where he died,” she said. “But it was where he lived.”

            “Right.” Crowley shook his head. “Terrible. He was a good man.”

            “He was.”

            Sam had never expected that to come out of Lucifer’s mouth. He stared at him.

            “What? I can appreciate a good father. Even when I know that a major reason why you Winchesters grew up to become major pains in my ass was him.”

            “He did a damn good job,” Dean said, his throat thick. “Wish he was here to fight with us.”

            “Part of him will be there,” Mom said quietly. “Everything he taught you will be there.”

            “You’re right.” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat that always happened when he thought about Bobby.  “Garth is coming to, and Jody. We can all fight for him. He started the model for a good hunter’s network. He’d be so fucking pissed off if he knew about all of this.”

            “Yup.” Sam looked at Eileen. _Ready to go?_

_Yes. Come on, we need to get on the road._

Sam hugged Mom again, whispered a quiet “I promise I’ll come back,” into her ear, did the same for Cas once Dean let go of him, and waved to Rowena. Then he got into Eileen’s car.

            Normally he would have gone in the Impala, especially since Lucifer was there. But Dean refused to allow Sam to be in the same car as Lucifer, Eileen needed to drive her car, and they needed two cars.

            So the Devil was riding shotgun. Sam hoped that Dean would play the tape they saved for special occasions—‘the tape when we have jackass passengers’.

            Technically it was a six hour drive to Sioux Falls, but Crowley’s highway was working beautifully; Sam could see landmarks like ‘the one tree in the middle of the field’ and ‘that weird roadside stand’ fly by outside the window. They were only thirty minutes into the drive when two things happened at once.

            They reached the ‘welcome to Sioux Falls’ sign, and Sam’s phone rang.

            “Sam Winchester.”

            “Rowena’s having contractions.” Lucifer sounded mildly panicked. “And they’re coming fast.”

            “Fuck!” Sam had hoped they would have time to start setting up, maybe build some kind of barricade before Rowena started giving birth.

            That clearly wasn’t going to happen.

            “I’m going to concentrate on keeping the barrier up,” Lucifer continued. His voice cracked. “I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

            “Whatever time you can give us is great,” Sam reassured him. And wasn’t that strange, wanting to reassure the Devil? “We’ll be okay.”

            When they got to Singer Salvage, Sam all but leapt out of the car. Dean was out too, throwing bags of supplies on the ground. There was magic pulsing in the air; Sam could feel it through his bones. He knew that magic all too well.

            But there was a second kind that was pushing against it, poking and prodding with horrible accuracy. And it wasn’t just in one place; Sam could see flashes of that magic all along the road and past the piles of broken cars.

            “Sam!” Donna ran up to him. “How much longer do we have?” She hoisted two of the bags over her shoulders. “Everyone’s here, but I don’t know how well our defenses will hold.” Without waiting for an answer, she ran back to the largest pile of cars, and Sam followed with the rest of the bags. Crouched behind the pile were Jody and seven other hunters that Sam had never met in person, but could guess from descriptions.

            “Rowena went into labour about five minutes ago,” Sam answered. Eileen had followed him, and they started unloading the bags. “Lucifer’s doing his best, but it could break at any minute.”

            Donna’s phone chimed, and she looked relieved. “The girls and Garth have gotten everyone into our panic room. They’ll be safe there.”

            “You have a panic room?”

            “That’s the whole reason I moved to Sioux Falls instead of Jody moving out to Stillwater,” Donna said with a grin. “I’d make introductions, but…”

            “I’m Bailey,” one of the women said. She stood tall, but her face was twisted in pain.

            “You’re Jay’s mother,” Sam remembered. “And…and Walt’s wife. I’m sorry.”

            “You don’t owe me any sympathy for my husband, I know he killed you. But thank you for my son.”

            “He’s still important to you.”

            Bailey shook her head. “I’ll be fine. We need to fight right now. Have we got any idea of their numbers?”

            “It looks like about a hundred and fifty humans, and about that many monsters.” Sam shook his head. “We brought supplies, but we need to finish this as fast as possible.”

            An audible shudder went through the magic in the air. Sam winced. “They’re coming. Everyone got what they need?”

            Everyone nodded.

            “If you get hurt, Bobby’s panic room is still there,” Jody said. “The entrance is covered with a tarp, but you should be able to get down without a problem and shut the door.”

            A sharp sizzling noise started up, increasing in pitch until a hole appeared about three feet off the ground. Three figures leapt out, and they opened their mouths, exposing fangs. Other holes were starting to open.

            Sam charged at the vampires, the machete swinging through the first one’s neck before they could react. The other two howled with fury, and they lunged for him. Before they could touch him Sam heard a ‘snap!’ and they disintegrated. He looked over and saw Lucifer, his face filled with cold fury. “Next one’s on you, Sam!”

            And Lucifer was right, because now there were humans leaping through the portals, humans with freaking machine guns. Shots rang out from behind one of the rusty car piles, and Sam grinned—Eileen had insisted on bringing the closest thing to a machine gun in the Bunker. Some of the humans dropped (Sam was relieved to see that several of them had non-fatal but debilitating wounds), and Sam looked over at Dean. “Go get into position!” he yelled.

            Dean stabbed a shifter through the heart with a silver knife and backed up. “On it!” He vaulted up one of the car piles.

            _He’s gonna need a tetanus shot after that_ , Sam thought, but there wasn’t much time to think that, because people were coming thick and fast, and he couldn’t tell if all of them were humans. In the end, it didn’t matter. Sam saw a fucking armoured truck come through a portal, and he heard sirens in the distance. This had to end fast.

            “Sasparilla!” he shouted as loud as he could, and the others took up the call. Sam fell back as far as he could without running into a car pile. Eileen was next to him, and she braced herself on him.

            They both heard “Yippee kay-yay motherfuckers!”

            And then Dean got his greatest wish, ever since they were fifteen and found it.

            He got to use the grenade launcher.

            *******

"Alright, Rowena," Mary soothed. "Lie down."

Rowena closed her eyes as she obeyed. She’d never been in pain like this before. Instead of the cramps she was expecting, it was a full body ache, pulsing with every beat of her heart. The glow had spread from her stomach down her legs. Was that a sign that her child was ready to be born?

She wished that Lucifer was here. Obviously he had to fight—she was in no condition to do so, with so much of her magic going to protect her child. But she wanted him here so that he could reassure her that nothing would go wrong, that their child would live, and know both of its parents.

Then again, maybe it was better that he wasn’t here. After all, Fergus’ father had stayed beside her the entire time she was in labour, but the moment the baby was born and it was clear that she wasn’t going to die, he left. He never came back.

Rowena cried out as Cas touched her. “Your hands,” she gasped. “They’re so hot!” Like fire against her already sweating skin.”

“I’m sorry. Mary, can you help her?”

Poor Mary Winchester, Rowena mused. The woman was out of her time, and she’d done admirably well the last few months with her suddenly-grown sons and all the technology. But she had to watch her sons go off to fight and stay here to help a witch give birth to a Nephilim. That probably wasn’t her mother’s instinct. Not that Rowena knew anything about that at all. She hoped that she would learn with this baby.

Between Mary and Castiel, Rowena was finally sat upright, changed from her maternity dress into a long shirt that smelled like Lucifer. She wasn’t a modest woman, but having an angel pull off her underwear with burning hands made her blush.

“That will make you more comfortable,” Castiel said. “I’m going to get the First Aid.” He vanished.

“It’s just down the h-hall!” Rowena stuttered. “He doesn’t need—need to fly.”

“I think he’s just enjoying the fact that he has wings again.” Mary put a hand on Rowena’s brow, and Rowena winced—even Mary’s skin was uncomfortably warm.

“I need to—um.” Mary bit her lip the exact same way her sons did when they were trying to give uncomfortable news. “I need to see how far you’re dilated.”

“Right. Of course. Do you know how?”

“Oh yeah. I was training to be a nurse back before Sam was born. I was on maternity leave when—well, when I died.” Mary dipped her hands into the hot, soapy water Cas had left. Drying her hands, she approached Rowena. “How’s the pain?”

“Could be better. Could be a lot worse.”

“Right. And you say it’s more continuous?”

“I’m not feeling cramps at all,” Rowena confirmed. “Just—ah!” The pain spiked for a long, breathless moment, and then retreated. “I stand corrected,” she gasped out. “It is cramps, just not only in my womb.”

“Okay.” Mary’s warm hands spread her legs, and Rowena felt one prod her, checking. “I can get two fingers in, Rowena. This is much faster than I thought it would be. But you’re still going to need to wait to push.”

Rowena could only nod.

********

Lucifer was getting truly, _truly_ irritated with the range of his powers. Of course, much of his Grace was occupied with keeping Rowena and their child alive and well, and he didn’t mind that in the slightest. What he _minded_ were the portals, which were almost eating into his barriers. He wanted to just drop them, because they were clearly useless now, but the portals held them in place.

Fucking humans.

Now he could only smite three beings at a time. He couldn’t harm the humans, but he could absolutely take care of the monsters, and he dispatched them to Purgatory as fast as he could manage. A smaller part of his awareness pointed out that there was an entire city nearby with people who were going to get hurt—more importantly, were going to interfere. Lucifer could hear the police coming already. And so, with a groan, he sent out more Grace. It was a simpler barrier this time; just an illusion that would make the scene seem normal to any observer, while subtly telling them to drive away. When the sirens stopped he sighed with relief.

But he was still stretched thin, and the goddamn invaders just kept coming. Lucifer started slicing with his blade; it wasn’t as efficient, but it wouldn’t be such a strain.

Unfortunately—and this was always his problem, even back when he was young—when he was tired, his temper grew more unpredictable.

A human faced him; the same one, Lucifer remembered from the park all those months ago.

“So you’re the Devil,” the human said, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Yep. Beat it, human. I’ve got more important things to deal with.”

“Like your mutant spawn?”

Lucifer clutched his blade harder, and glared at Rawlings. The man backed up a little bit, but his eyes were still mocking.

“Your freak wife and demented offspring are going to die, you know? They’re going to fucking die, and I’m gonna make sure you watch.”

Lucifer snarled, and lunged at the man. This seemed to be what he was waiting for, because Rawlings drew his gun and fired four bullets. They hurt like a bitch—Colt bullets, he remembered the feeling—but they didn’t drop him. He’d put on a bit of a show for the Winchesters in Carthage; the Colt hurt, but it wouldn’t even knock him out, much less kill him.

But what Lucifer had forgotten was that not being able to hurt humans meant that his body would make sure that he _couldn’t_ hurt humans. And if necessary, that meant injuring himself.

This time, it was the blade that Lucifer wielded, his own blade, the first one Father gave him when they were going to fight the Darkness, that plunged—instead of into Rawlings’ stomach, into Lucifer’s side.

Lucifer screamed out loud with shock and pain. He staggered, but he could feel his knees turning weak.

“Lucifer!” A figure leapt forward and knocked Rawlings out cold with one blow to the head.

 _Sam Winchester_ , Lucifer thought as he sank onto the ground. How perfect.

            ********

            Rowena started screaming the moment she felt it. Lucifer’s Grace was slipping away.

            “Rowena, what is it?” Mary asked.

            “I can’t feel him,” Rowena sobbed out. “Something’s wrong.”

            Mary checked her again. “Rowena…” she’d been ready to push only a moment ago but “…you’re less dilated.”

            And Rowena could feel all of it, felt the pain fade from her extremities and localize in her womb. She watched in horror as the glow faded too, creeping back up her legs.

            Cas put a hand on her stomach, and it wasn’t too hot anymore. “Rowena, your baby is losing their Grace.”

            “Can you do something?” Rowena begged.

            Cas’ eyes glowed blue. “I can hold them with my Grace for a few moments, but if the connection with Lucifer isn’t restored, your child won’t be a Nephilim.”

            Rowena heard what Cas was saying, and what he wasn’t. The baby wouldn’t be a Nephilim, because Lucifer would be dead.

            ********

            Sam crouched down beside Lucifer. The archangel was gasping, his hand covering the hole in his side, but Grace was pouring out.

            “Go, Sam,” Lucifer got out, shaking violently. “You have to keep fighting. They’ll kill—”

            “The others can fight.” Sam didn’t totally understand why he was doing this, why he wanted to sit here beside his fallen enemy. “Can I help—”

            “There’s no healing this kind of wound.” Lucifer coughed, blood on his lips. “Sam, please—promise me—my child—”

            “Rowena and the baby are safe right now,” Sam said. Slowly, he put his hand over Lucifer’s. “Everything will be alright.”

            “Name them—Dawn. Protect them. Please. I know I have no right to—”

            “I promise.” Sam looked around. The battle was slowing down, but Cas was still fighting, too far away to help. “I’ll protect Dawn.”

            Lucifer took hold of Sam’s hand. Despite the pool of Grace surrounding him, he still had a strong grip. “You’re going to need—help with that. I’m sorry I can’t—fix all of it.” He said something in the language Sam remembered from the Cage, not the regular Enochian, but the words Lucifer and Michael used in the quieter moments.

            Lucifer’s power flowed through him, but it wasn’t painful, it didn’t feel strange. Instead it was familiar, and it gently touched every sore spot in Sam’s body, some he’d stopped noticing. Every ache in his soul, every lingering pain from the days his body was in the Cage…they vanished.

            Sam took a deep breath, and felt no pain for the first time in seven years.

            “Lucifer…”

            The archangel smiled weakly. “I needed to—finish it.” He slumped back.

            “Thank you.”

            “No—need. It was the—whole point.” Lucifer closed his eyes. “Tell him—I tried.”

            “Tell who?” Sam asked.

            “I think he’s talking about me.”

            Sam leapt to his feet.

            Chuck and Amara stood before him. Chuck looked anxious, and he moved towards Lucifer. Sam let him, staring at Amara in confusion.

            “Hello Sam Winchester. It’s good to see you.”

            “Nice to…uh, see you too. What’s…what the hell is going on?”

            “Amara, could you deal with the battle?” Chuck said, ignoring Sam’s question. “I need to concentrate for a moment.”

            Sam watched in fascination as Chuck held his hands above his fallen son. He started to speak in that same ancient language, and golden light spilled from his palms, pouring onto Lucifer, and healing his wounds.

            “Father?” Lucifer asked, his eyes wide with shock. “You came back.”

            “I would have been here sooner, my son. I knew Rowena was pregnant, but it takes longer than you think to retrace your steps across galaxies. Don’t worry; she and Dawn will be fine now.” Chuck put a hand on Lucifer’s head. “Looks like you didn’t need my help to finish it after all. Well done, my son.”

            “When Rowena got pregnant, I thought I wouldn’t be able do it,” Lucifer confessed. “I knew that—it was an accident, and not allowed, and—”

            “You fell in love,” Chuck answered. “And your child will be born soon. I am happy this happened, Lucifer, even if it wasn’t in my original plan.”

            Sam was sure he was missing something. “Sorry—what has Lucifer done?”

            Chuck looked at Sam. “Oh, you haven’t realized it? You’ve been sneakier than I thought, Lucifer.”

            “It was more of a game that way,” Lucifer answered, accepting Chuck’s help to sit up.

            “What was more of a game?” Sam demanded. The field had fallen silent, and in the corner of his eye he could see Amara approaching Cas, with several people on the ground.

            “You haven’t guessed? Lucifer was tasked with healing you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Also the amount I know about labour is slightly small, so if I messed anything up, I'm gonna blame it on it being a Nephilim labour :)  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	16. Fathers and Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer explains, a child is born, and everyone comes home.

            “I’m sorry what.”

            Sam couldn’t put any emotion into the statement, not even the inflection of a question. Was he…shocked? No, not just shocked. Confused? Angry? Maybe all three?

            “I promised you that I would heal your soul once the Darkness was dealt with,” Chuck said gently. “Do you remember that?”

            “Yeah, I—I do. But I thought—”

            “That I’d taken off without doing anything? Yeah, I thought you might get that impression. Honestly, that was the only way it was going to work for Lucifer, if you weren’t on your guard.”

            “Brother, you’re taking way too long to explain things.” Amara rejoined them, Cas at her side. “The battle is won. We should return them to the Bunker. His child will be born soon.”

            “Right. I’ve always been too much about backstory.” Chuck put his hands together. “I found Lucifer right before we left, and I gave him back this vessel. He asked me for a chance at redemption, and what better way than to heal the wounds he caused?”

            “So…” Sam looked at Lucifer. “You’ve been—this whole time?”

            “Yes. It was my redemption, and honestly…you stood up to me. You gave me my father back, when all I ever did was take from you. I owed you the chance to be healed. Plus, I figured solving your problems would be easy.” Lucifer wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t understand how stuck in your self-loathing you are, or how deep your…how deep my scars went.”

            Sam couldn’t meet his eyes.

            “That’s why I have been acting the way I’ve been. More in line with your hallucinations than who you knew me as before. You seemed less frightened that way.”  

            “Got used to ignoring you when you weren’t real.”

            “There you go. So I’ve been working to try and make your life better, these last few months.”

            Sam thought about it: Cas’ healing, Eileen, help with the Men of Letters… “Did you arrange that deal with Crowley?”

            “I did. But I made him think it was his idea. He’s always been easy to manipulate.”

            “You realize he’s your stepson, right?” Then Sam raised his eyebrows. “Hang on, how does Rowena getting pregnant fall into this?”

            “It doesn’t,” Amara snorted. “That would be my nephew’s idea of fun.”

            “I never wanted her to suffer!” Lucifer shot back, a flash of his old rage in his eyes. “It wasn’t planned at all. I just…”

            “Fell in love with her,” Chuck finished.

            Lucifer stared at his father. “Wait—did you—”

            “Experiencing love is a powerful way to examine your self,” Chuck answered. “I knew you were developing feelings for Rowena, despite trying to murder her.”

            “She tried to send me back to the Cage,” Lucifer muttered. “I figured that made us even. She thinks so too, by the way.”

            “No love story is perfect. But I hoped you would choose her, my son. And that she would choose you. I want you to be happy, Lucifer. On your own terms.”

            Lucifer shrugged. “I guess I can believe that, now.” Then his eyes went wide. “Rowena! I need to go to her.”

            “We’ll all go.” Chuck raised a hand, but Sam stopped him.

            “Where’s Eileen?”

            Amara looked around. “Over there, with the rest of your group.”

            Sam turned. The Brits were all together, with guns trained on them. Eileen had a bandana wrapped around her arm, her hair was soaked with sweat, and she looked absolutely beautiful.

            “I…”

            “You need to deal with this,” Chuck finished for him. “Of course. Send a prayer when you’re finished, and I’ll come and fetch you.”

            Sam barely heard him, barely heard the snap a second later. He walked towards Eileen, his mind swirling. The idea that his worst nightmare had been helping him for months was mind-boggling, and if he didn’t feel the lightness in every limb he wouldn’t believe it.

            But it was real, and he could breathe again, and Eileen turned a dazzling smile towards him as she kept an eye on the prisoners, and Sam thought that was enough to hold onto. He could have a crisis later. Right now he needed to deal with the situation in front of them.

            He recognized Pantsuit—Toni Bevell—among the prisoners. “Your Ladyship,” he said with a mock bow. And then, more sincerely, “thank you. You gave us plenty of warning.”

            Some of the Brits stared at her with undisguised loathing. Sam nodded to Jody and she pulled Toni away from the others.

            “I think we’ve made our point pretty clearly?” Sam asked.

            “You cheated,” one of the women objected.

            “No, we used our resources. And I…I suppose I collected a debt.” Sam traced the scar on his hand. “So, where do we go from here?”

            Silence.

            “That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” Sam said. “I’m serious. I have no idea where you want to go. We don’t want to kill you all.”

            “Speak for yourself, Winchester,” Bailey snarled.

            Sam looked at her. “You’re telling me you want to slaughter every last one of the British Men of Letters? Because that’s every single adult and child; they start them young. Are you ready to kill all of them, regardless of what they believe or what they’re willing to change?”

            Bailey looked away. “They killed my son.”

            “It’s all of them, Bailey.” Eileen raised a hand. “I have no idea what you’re feeling right now. I’ve never lost a child. But we’d have to wipe them all out if that’s the path we took. We all know how dangerous survivors can be.”

            Silence fell again.

            “Dr. Hesse is dead,” one of the kneeling men said quietly. “She’s the head of the Old Ones; they’re the ones who direct us.”

            “How did she die?”

            “Mick killed her when he escaped.”

            Sam looked at Toni. “He’s alive?”

            “Mick is fine. I broke him out before Hesse started in with the knives.”

            “Good.” Sam took a deep breath. “You have your way, and we have ours. And I’m not saying our way is always right. We don’t always take care of ourselves or our families, there’s way too much alcohol involved, and I’ve known hunters who take the ‘monsters need to be exterminated, no matter what they do’ view.” A memory of Gordon, struggling against the razor wire in his hands, came into his mind. “Maybe it would be better if we all compromised a little, and made a new way of being Men of Letters.”

            “What would you suggest?” Toni asked.

            “Can I say it Sam?” Eileen asked.

            Sam grinned. She understood him really well. “Go ahead, honey.”

            “Saving people, hunting things,” Eileen said, signing along. “I think that’s what we have to focus on, and understand that humans can be the thing we need to hunt, and people aren’t always human. I owe my life to Lilian O’Grady, and she was a vampire.”

            “Wait, what?” Sam asked, stunned.

            “I don’t usually tell people,” Eileen said. “She was turned against her will; she was already a hunter. She fought it and kept fighting. When she drank blood from a bag from someone who had blood cancer, she…she finally died.” She looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Sam. I was going to tell you, I promise.”

            “I slept with a demon.” It was the only thing Sam could think to say.

            Eileen’s eyebrows shot up and she started to laugh. “Alright, you win.”

            “I really think I do.” Sam took her hand.

            “How do we put this… ‘saving people hunting things’ thing into practice?” Toni asked. “I suppose that’s a decent starting point, but what does that look like?”

            “That’s something we’ll have to figure out together,” Sam said. He bit his lip. “Look, I’m sure we’re all exhausted, and you have wounded to tend to and dead to bury. Why don’t you deal with that, and we can have an armistice until tomorrow. For now, I’d say that you should be ready to start getting your hands dirty. No more capture and torture. Sound reasonable?”

            “I think we can manage that,” Toni said dryly. “We’ll speak tomorrow, then?”

            “Sure. Let Mick know what’s going on, and thank him. He really helped us.”

            “Will do.” Toni raised her hand and spoke a few words in a language Sam didn’t recognize, which didn’t happen very often. A portal opened, this one much larger. Sam watched as the Brits picked up the wounded and the dead, and they filed through the portal one by one.

            “Sam?” Toni said.

            “Yeah?”

            “You’re…not at all like what they told us. Thank you for giving us a chance. Most people wouldn’t.”

            “You and I both want the same thing,” Sam answered. “We want our families safe.”

            Toni nodded, and  then stepped through the portal itself. With a whirring noise, the portal closed.

            Sam pulled Eileen into his arms and held her tight. “It’s over.”

            “Sure is.” Sam looked up. Jody was smiling. “Not a single casualty on our side. Couple of scrapes, and I think Bailey has a broken arm, but everything will be fine soon. I’d like to sit in on that meeting tomorrow.”

            “I think everyone should. Call along the phone tree, and we can have people call in. We can rig something up for that. Right now you should go get your girls, and tell them it’s over.”

            “Will do. We’ll swing by for a visit this weekend, okay?”

            “Sounds good.”

            Jody took Donna’s hand and the two walked away together. Sam looked around. The big field looked a little torn up, but there were no bodies, no spilt blood, no broken weapons. There was nothing to show that a major battle had happened.

            “Amara does a good clean up job,” Eileen remarked.

            “She sure does.” Sam took her hands. “Ready to go home?”

            “Pray away,” Eileen answered.

            _Hi…uh…Chuck? Things are sorted, we can come home now._  

 

            *******

            Lucifer knelt beside Rowena as fast as he could, ignoring his father and aunt behind him. This moment was about this woman, this woman he loved against every instinct he’d developed, and the child they’d made.

            Rowena’s hair was up in a bun, and it was damp with sweat. There was a faint glow around her, and Lucifer put a hand on her stomach.

            “You’re alright,” Rowena whispered. She gritted her teeth a second later, throwing her head back. When the contraction passed, she looked back at him. “I thought—I felt—”

            “I’m fine, Ro,” Lucifer promised. “Father healed me. How are you?”

            “Been better. This time’s much faster.”

            “She’s nearly ready to start pushing,” Castiel said. He was staring at Lucifer from the other side of the bed. “Lucifer, what has happened to the others?”

            “Your mate is fine. So are Sam and Eileen. They’re sorting out the Brits.”

            Cas relaxed a tad. “Good. Any casualties?”

            “None on our side, and I—” Lucifer interrupted himself as Rowena screamed.

            “Rowena!”

            “Ah—it’s not—not pain—but—Ah!” Rowena’s eyes flashed silvery gold for just a moment.

            “Rowena, it’s time.” Mary Winchester stood in the corner, rightly giving Rowena plenty of space. Rightfully so; the child’s power was starting to grow on its own, separate from the Grace Lucifer was pouring into Rowena. “You need to push now.”

            “Mary’s an excellent coach,” Rowena gasped out. Lucifer sat behind her and held her carefully, supporting her. “I suppose I’d better listen.”

            “You’re doing wonderfully,” Lucifer whispered into her ear. “And if Mary is helping, I am more than grateful.”

            For the first time, he looked up at his father. He was standing with Amara in the doorway, looking…was it possible that God could look awkward?

            “Can you do anything to ease her pain, Father?”

            Father nodded, and approached the bed hesitantly. “Hello Rowena.”

            “Charles.” Rowena cried out again, the contraction rippling through her whole body. “Ach, wee bairn, go easy. You’ll be born soon enough.”

            Father put his hand on Rowena’s head, and Lucifer felt her relax. “I can’t do much more than that, I’m afraid.”

            “That’s plenty.” Rowena’s voice sounded stronger, and she braced herself against Lucifer.

            Lucifer had never seen a human give birth, and it would have been horrifying if it wasn’t his child. Rowena’s entire body was protesting, fighting both to get the child out and to keep her intact at the same time. Her own magic was shielding her (like it had the day he’d snapped her neck, and really _how_ had they gotten to this point from there), but the baby was growing stronger every second. Mary kept up a steady flow of encouragement. Lucifer wanted to echo it, but he was trying to focus on keeping Rowena in one piece, to keep the child from hurting their mother.

            _Hold on, little one_ , he called to them. _It will be alright, Dawn. Just hold on._

            Suddenly the magic in the room went higher, and Lucifer could hear his child responding. _Coming, Father._

Then there was a blur of movement, as Rowena pressed back against Lucifer hard and cried out, and Castiel knelt at the foot of the bed, and Lucifer felt his child leave Rowena’s body.

            Time stopped when Castiel held up the baby. That’s what it felt like—that strange, almost-broken feeling Lucifer remembered from millennia ago, when Father had stopped it on a whim. But Castiel was moving with the child, and murmuring something quietly, so time couldn’t have truly stopped.

            Castiel laid Lucifer’s baby in Rowena’s arms. “She was born a girl,” he said softly. “She’s healthy and fine, Lucifer.”

            Rowena sagged back into Lucifer’s embrace, and Lucifer got a good look at his daughter for the first time. She was so small, fitting comfortably in the crook of Rowena’s arm. She had a few wisps of red-blonde hair, and blue eyes that blinked sleepily up at him. She had wings—that solved one question—small and pink, just like his, tucked against her sides.

            “Hello, little one,” Lucifer whispered. “Hello, Dawn.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the baby’s head.

            “So you made up your mind about the name at last?” Rowena whispered.

            “Names are important,” Lucifer defended himself. He kissed Rowena gently. “Well done, Rowena. I’m so—so happy.” Archangels weren’t supposed to be able to cry, but the tears in his eyes suggested otherwise.

            “She’s beautiful, Lucifer.”

            Sam Winchester and Eileen were in the room now, with Dean behind them. Sam approached Rowena carefully. “So her name is Dawn?”

            “Yes. Dawn Clio,” Rowena answered. “Is everything alright, Sam? You look different.”

            “We’ve sorted things out with the Brits,” Sam answered. “And…I feel great.” He shot a look at Lucifer. “How are you feeling?”

            “I’ll be fine, lad”. Rowena put her free hand on her stomach. “I am surprised that I’m not feeling any afterbirth.”

            “There won’t be any,” Cas answered. “Dawn was connected to you through Grace, not a placenta. That’s why she doesn’t have a belly button.”

            Rowena laughed. “Oh, you don’t, do you?” she asked Dawn. “Sweetheart, you won’t be wearing bikinis any time soon.” She cuddled Dawn close.

            Lucifer watched Sam take a deep breath, his fingers flexing. “Could I…could I hold her?”

            “Of course.”

            Lucifer felt a moment of panic as he watched Sam hold out his arms, but it passed when Sam held Dawn expertly. The baby cooed up at him, and closed her eyes.

            “She’s beautiful,” Sam repeated. “Absolutely beautiful.”

            Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw Eileen looking at Sam. There was such honest longing in her eyes that it made him smile. Sam would have a child soon, if Eileen had anything to say about it.

            Sam gave Dawn back almost reluctantly. “She looks like you, Lucifer.”

            “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” Lucifer answered. He took Dawn into the crook of his arm, marvelling as his daughter turned her face into his chest.

            “Jury’s out on that one.”

            “Crowley?”

            “Hells, this room is crowded.” Crowley leaned against the wall. “I came to see my heir. Hello, Mother.”

            “Come and see your sister,” Rowena urged.

            Crowley exchanged a look with Lucifer.

            “Yes, Crowley. Come here.”

            The demon approached. “Are you alright, Mother?”

            “I’ll be fine.” Rowena looked up at him. “Fergus…I’m sorry.”

            “You loved my father, and he didn’t love you,” Crowley answered. He didn’t try to touch Dawn, but his face softened. “I can understand that. Just do a better job this time.”

            “I’ll try to do a better job for you too.” Rowena reached up and put a hand on Crowley’s cheek. “You and your son.”

            Crowley nodded jerkily. Rowena held the bundle out, and Lucifer watched as Crowley awkwardly held Dawn.

            “Her wings are just like yours,” Crowley commented. “Beautiful shade of pink.”

            “Sorry, _what?”_

“Eat me, Winchester.” Lucifer glared at Dean. “You do realize that I was around before your bullshit gender norms, right?”

            “Will she be able to fly?”

            “Not right away,” Father answered. He was still at the foot of the bed, Amara lingering in the doorway. “It’ll take some time before her wings are strong enough.”

            “Do you want to hold her, Father?” Lucifer asked.

            Passing his child to his father was the most frightening thing Lucifer had ever done. He remembered the day those hands had banished him, the way that voice had been so cold as he ordered Michael to send him to Hell. But there were millennia before that when Father had been kind. The way he was being now, when he conjured a blanket from nothingness and wound it around Dawn, tucking it under her wings. “Hello, grand-daughter,” he whispered. “Your Father did a fine job to bring you into the world, as did your mother. You will do well.”

            “Can you—can you see anything?” Rowena asked. “About her future?”

            “Only what I see in front of me,” Father answered. “And I see two people who have built a love together from hatred, who have learned to give instead of taking, and who will love her with everything they have. That’s a good sign for the future.”

            Lucifer leaned his face against Rowena’s shoulder, overcome.

            “So, my son. What will you do now?”

            That pulled Lucifer up short. “I don’t know.” Confused, he looked to Sam for guidance. The last few months had been dictated by what his former vessel needed to feel safe, to heal. But Sam didn’t need him anymore…or did he? “Sam, what happened with the Brits?”

            “Lady Bevell saved Mick,” Sam answered. “I just spoke to him, and he’ll be okay. Turns out he wasn’t the only one getting sick of how they were working. He and Lady Bevell are going to work to get things running…differently. They’re probably going to need some help with that, but apparently all the old guard were killed. Lady Bevell and Mick killed Dr. Hesse, but they don’t know what happened to the others.”

            Crowley coughed.

            “You killed them all?!” Dean demanded.

            “We had a deal. No interference in America, and I wouldn’t interfere in Britain. And they broke it. I wasn’t going to risk my heir’s future.”

            “Well…that’s good.” Lucifer looked at Rowena. “What do you want, Ro?”

            “I want to get away from here,” Rowena said. “I want to raise our child away from all of this. I want to give her a home where we can be ourselves, and we don’t have to worry about trying to pretend to be _normal_. Somewhere with lots of trees and a pond. I miss that.”

            That sounded perfect to Lucifer, but his eyes went to Sam again.

            “As far as I can see, I think your work is done,” Sam said. “I’m…I’m fine now. We can deal with the rest of this. You’ve done enough.”

            “You know you don’t _have_ to let me off the hook,” Lucifer said before he could stop himself. But he’d promised to stop lying to Sam. “I don’t know why you would.”

            “You fixed what you broke,” Sam said simply. “And you’re working to make things better. That’s how apologies work, right?”

            Lucifer considered that. “So we just…part ways? And don’t have to see each other again? Or fight anymore?”

            “I’m alright with that if you are.”

            Lucifer felt his wings relax for the first time in…hell, it must be centuries. “I have to admit the mortal enemies act is getting old.”

            “It does get old,” Amara agreed. “So you and Rowena will be leaving, then?”

            “I’m not sure where we can go,” Lucifer said thoughtfully. “Finding a place far away from people might be difficult.”

            “It would be difficult if your Father wasn’t God.” Father shook his head. “Seriously, I think I deserve a little credit. I can make a home for you, and no one will find you there.”

            Lucifer saw Crowley flinch out of the corner of his eye, and made a decision he never thought he would make. “Crowley should be able to find us. He should be able to visit his mother, after all.”

            “I’m not calling you _Dad.”_ Crowley snapped.

            “I wouldn’t want you to in a million months of Sundays,” Lucifer answered.

“And with that, I think it’s time to go,” Father said.  

            “Goodbye Sam Winchester,” Lucifer said, before they vanished. “I hope you are happy.”

            The last thing Lucifer heard from Sam Winchester—the last thing he would hear him say for decades—was “I hope you will be too.”

           

 

            The little cottage was in the middle of a small clearing. Big, tall trees stood all around them. This place felt old, ancient. Lucifer could have sworn he’d been here before.

            “You were here before,” Father said. “This is the first place you ever landed on Earth.”

            Lucifer looked around. “Are you serious?”

            “I might be off by a mile or two,” Father admitted. “It was a long time ago.”

            Rowena was being supported by Amara; she was wearing a long green dress and carrying a fully clothed Dawn.

            “There’s a garden over there,” Father pointed out. “And electricity and plumbing; figured you probably didn’t want to go too ‘back to nature’.”

            “Not with an infant,” Rowena muttered.

            “Everything you need should be in there,” Father continued. “There’s a nice blend of old and new. It’s warded to nearly everything too; everyone except Crowley. You can raise Dawn here and just…be a family for a while. Whenever you want to return to Heaven, Lucifer, you’ll be welcome. And if you want to have more children, there will be no laws against it. It’s time to get rid of that rule.”

            “We’re not having another one until Dawn’s much older,” Rowena said.

            “So it’s still on the table.” Lucifer smirked at her.

            Rowena glared at him. “Just for that you can get up with her for the first few nights.”

            “I don’t need to sleep, I was going to offer to do that anyways.”

            Rowena huffed. “I’m going in with Dawn. I want to get a look around.” She still kissed his cheek when she walked by.

Hells bells, he loved this woman.

            As soon as Rowena was inside, Lucifer looked at his father. “Father, when did you make this place?”

            “We came back two days ago,” Amara answered for him. “Your father wanted to be ready for you.”

            Lucifer blinked hard. “You believed in me that much?”

            “I knew that you wanted to try, Lucifer. And I have always believed that you are capable of whatever you set your mind to.” Father put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s my fault that some of those goals weren’t the best.”

            “I know it was partly mine too,” Amara added. “Which is why I’m helping with the last part.”

            “What last part?” Lucifer asked.

            “Nothing you need to worry about,” Father said quickly. “Amara, we should be going.”

            “Father, _what last part?_ ”

            “You’ll know soon enough, my son.” Father wrapped his arms around him, and Lucifer let himself relax for a moment. It didn’t stop his curiosity.

            “Amara and I are back in Heaven,” Father whispered in his ear. “Everything will be sorted out there, and with the humans. There’s no need to worry. Come and visit whenever you like.”

            “You can…” Lucifer hesitated, but if he’d been forgiven, he could stand to give that to someone else. “You can both visit when you want too.”

            “Thank you, nephew.” Amara smiled at him, and Lucifer remembered when she used to smile at him that way, long ago, when it was only the six of them. “Farewell.”

            She and Father dissolved into light and darkness, floating into the sky against the setting sun. Lucifer watched for a moment, and then turned around.

            He stood in the doorway of the cottage for a moment and looked at Rowena, who was nursing Dawn in a rocking chair. The walls were painted with vibrant roses against lush foliage, and there was magic here that interested Lucifer.

            Tomorrow they would look at everything the cabin had to offer, and Lucifer would investigate the garden, maybe getting some seeds into the ground. They could set up a room for Dawn and start to build a life with her, figure out what kind of power she had.

            But right now he stepped in and shut the door.

            He was home.

 

 

            Sam settled into bed and sighed with relief. Eileen curled up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. The negotiations were suspended until the next day, but everything the remaining Brits were saying so far was sounding good. Crowley was running interference with Cas (helpful for making sure everyone was telling the truth). But right now everyone was asleep, the monsters were under control, and they could have a nice break and go to sleep.

            “Time for bed?” Sam asked Eileen.

            “In a minute.” Eileen touched his face. “I’m very proud of you.”

            “For what?”

            “For forgiving Lucifer.”

            Sam fidgeted with the covers. “I still can’t believe I did it.”

            “You did, though.”

            “After everything he’s done for me in the last couple of months—”

            “Which was no more than you deserved,” Eileen interrupted. “But you think it was more than that, didn’t you?”

            Sam swallowed. “Yes, I do. You know, the Apocalypse, Heaven, the Mark…those were actions that weren’t just caused by him. Amara and Chuck and even Michael had parts to play there. And his forgiveness for that part of the past will have to come from them, and he’ll have to find his own forgiveness for his family. But what he did to me…he chose that. And he chose to heal that damage. I can respect that on some level.”

            Eileen kissed his cheek. “I think you’re right. He chose to try a redemption arc, and I guess he did it.”

            “Yes.” Sam hugged her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, the feel of her body against his. Ever since Lucifer had healed him, his senses felt amplified. Without the constant thrum of pain and exhaustion in the back of every action (so subtle he hardly noticed it, so powerful its absence was remarkable), it was like he had new skin, new senses. A new way to see the world.

            “Baby?” Eileen asked. “Can I ask you something?”

            _Sure_ , Sam tapped into her arm.

            “I…there’s something I’ve always wanted, and I kind of gave up on it because of what I do, and what I am. But I think I want to try now, with you. If you’re okay with it.”

            Sam rearranged his hold so that he could look at her face. Eileen looked tense, her eyes focused on his like she was daring him to say something.

            “What do you want, Eileen?”

            “I want a baby.”

            “A baby,” Sam repeated.

            “Yes. I really want to be a mother. And I know that you can adopt, and I want to do that too, but I do want to try and be pregnant. I know we’ve only been together a little while, and it doesn’t need to be right away—”

            “I want to have a baby with you,” Sam interrupted her. “I think that would be awesome.” He wondered if she’d had the same thoughts he had in the last couple of months. Even though Rowena’s pregnancy had been stressful and scary sometimes, there were other moments. Quiet moments when Rowena sat with Lucifer on the sofa, holding hands, or when Lucifer’s whole face lit up when he felt the baby kick. It brought up urges Sam hadn’t felt in years, since Jess.

            “You do?”

            “I love you,” Sam whispered. He kissed her, adoring the feeling of her lips on his, the taste of her mouth. “And you were right; you can’t wait for the perfect moment. I think this is a pretty good moment anyways, and I…I want this too. I want you to have my baby.”

            “Do you think we should get married first?” Eileen asked. “I’m okay with that, but it’s not necessary for me.”

            “I just want to be with you.” Sam stroked her hair. “I want whatever you want. I love you dearly, and if you want marriage we can get married. But we don’t need to get married to have a baby. Hell, we could start tonight, if you want.”

            Eileen laughed. “Darling, I have to be off the pill for a little while. And we should probably—you know, make some plans, have discussions with the rest of our family.”

            “Good point.” Sam kissed her. “You know, we should start practicing though. Just to make sure we know what we’re doing.”

            Eileen rolled her eyes. “You don’t need a lousy pickup line to get me naked, Winchester.”

            “So is that a yes?”

            “Yes.” Eileen kissed him deeper, and Sam started to unbutton her shirt.

            The next day they would talk to Mick and Lady Bevell, and they would figure out a system where the Brits could be _rehabilitated,_ and they could start building relationships across the ocean. Sam and Eileen would bring up the baby idea, and Cas would immediately start listing off easier ways for them to get pregnant, none of which Sam really wanted to discuss in front of Dean (they totally used the first few). They would keep working on the network as Eileen’s belly grew, and Cas and Dean worked on the logistics of the Safe Houses. Every once in a while, Chuck and Amara would stop in to check up on them, and give news about Heaven. Cas went back with them a few times, and one time, a week before Eileen was due, he brought back their families for good. There was a note from Chuck explaining why it took so long, but Cas explained part of it to Sam, and only Sam. An archangel’s Grace had been needed to complete the spell, and Sam knew that it was the last gift Lucifer gave him. It made the delivery room much more crowded when Eileen’s water broke, but Sam couldn’t have cared less. It was a truly awesome experience to hold three children at once, triplets that showed off their parents and grandparents’ looks all at the same time. They named them Patrick Kevin and Robert Dean and Maura Ellen (Dean and Cas had claimed a few other names). One day Patrick would be Donna Eileen instead, but she was still her father’s best buddy, and Maura was so much like her mother Dean thought there might be some weird shifter things going on. Robert Dean adored Bobby John when they met, and the two would become hunting partners down the road. Sam and Eileen also found Magda Peterson on their first hunt after the triplets were born, and they brought her home too.  Dean and Cas did eventually adopt two babies, Mary Jo and Charlie Claire, who went by CC until they graduated from med school. Then they were Dr. CC.

            But all of that was in the future, and Sam knew none of it. All he knew in that moment was that his family was safe, he had the woman he loved most in the world in his bed, and he could breathe again. That was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue concerning that 'last part' Chuck mentioned, don't you worry :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	17. The Last Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer discovers what Amara meant, and a familiar face returns.

            Lucifer scowled up into the tree. “Young lady, get down here now.”

            Dawn giggled back at him. “No, Aba. I like it up here.”

            “Yes, I know that. But Mama is finished dinner, and you need to eat.”

            “I’m not hungry though!”

            “You can come right back to your tree after you eat,” Lucifer promised. “Now come down!”

            Dawn leapt down into his arms, and Lucifer caught her easily.

            It had only been two years since Dawn’s birth, but she was already roughly the size and mental age of a five year old child. According to Father, at least—he was also the one who said that Dawn would age more quickly until she got to maturity, and then she would age slowly. That was fine by Lucifer, although he did miss having a baby daughter just a little bit. If he and Rowena were successful later that night though, Dawn would have a sibling soon, another little baby.

            “Aba!” Dawn interrupted his train of thought. “Aba, who’s that?”

            Lucifer turned, half-expecting to see Sam Winchester. Father kept him updated on the human’s life when Lucifer asked, and Lucifer had felt it clear as day when the triplets were born. Three children who could have been his vessels were bound to register, but there was no need to speak to him. Still, Sam and Rowena communicated every so often about magic, so perhaps he’d come to visit.

            But it wasn’t Sam Winchester.

            Lucifer shook his head in disbelief. It couldn’t be. It genuinely couldn’t be his brother standing there.

            “Hi Luci.”

            Gabriel stood there, _alive_ , his wings intact and a familiar smile in his eyes.

            Lucifer felt his wings start to tremble. He didn’t want to scare Dawn, so he tried to control it.

            But Dawn didn’t seem bothered at all. “Hi!” she called. “You have wings just like Aba, ’cept his are pink.”

            Gabriel’s golden wings shimmered as he laughed. “You must be Dawn. I’m your Uncle Gabriel.”

            “Gabriel.” Lucifer finally got the word out. “I don’t—how are you here?”

            “Dad pulled me out of the Empty,” Gabriel answered. “It took a lot longer than he planned, he said to say sorry about that.”

            _The last part of your reward._

            “Dawn, sweetheart, can you please go inside to Mama?” Lucifer asked.

            For some reason, Dawn actually obeyed him this time, fluttering into the house.

            Lucifer stared at his brother for a long moment of silence, and then he sank to his knees. “I am so sorry, Gabriel. I never should have—I regret—” his True Voice choked out the same time his vessel’s voice did.

            “Brother.” Gabriel’s sounded much closer. When Lucifer looked up, Gabriel stood right in front of him, so close that their wings nearly touched. But Lucifer wouldn’t let them, despite how much he longed to wrap Gabriel up in his wings and never let him go.

            “Lucifer.” Gabriel sat down cross-legged in front of him. “You’re my brother, and I love you, but you’re kind of an idiot.”

            Lucifer stared at him. “What—”

            “You do realize your only sin against me was that you killed me, right?”

            “I’ve done more—”

            “To others. And you’ve gained, or will gain, their forgiveness, as you gained Father’s and Sam’s. But Luci, I tried to kill you too, you know. I didn’t want to, I never did, just like you didn’t want to kill me. But I wasn’t exactly giving you a choice, there.” Gabriel reached out, both with his hands and with his wings. “Luci, I forgive you. I’ve missed you, brother.”

            Lucifer tentatively met Gabriel’s hands with his own, wings touching just a bit. “I’ve missed you every day,” he answered. He could barely think, this didn’t feel real. He didn’t deserve this.

            But then Gabriel grabbed him and held him close, and Lucifer’s wings wrapped around Gabriel in a familiar but long-forgotten embrace, and they stayed there together until Lucifer started to weep with relief.

            “I love you, Luci,” Gabriel whispered. “And I’m proud of you. You’ve built a good life for yourself and for the people you wronged. Did you know that the Men of Letters have completely got hunting under control?”

            “Really?”

            “Yup. Turns out Toni Bevell actually has a degree in computer science, and she’s been helping Charlie Bradbury with setting up alarms and hideaways and requests for help. Which is good, because the Winchesters are busy enough with their little ones.”

            “I’m happy for them,” Lucifer said, and he actually meant it. Here in this place, in his home with Rowena and Dawn, he could be free of humanity’s influence, and this was helping with his attitude towards his Father’s creations. “They’ve had enough hardship.”

            Gabriel stood, pulling them both to their feet. “Can I meet my niece and her mother? I want to see the woman who made you change your mind after all these years. I want to see your garden too, but that’ll probably have to wait until after dinner, right?”

            “Yes.” Lucifer turned and saw Rowena standing in the doorway, Dawn in her arms. “Come and meet my family.”

            Dawn was fascinated by her uncle and all of his stories about the two of them when they were small. Rowena stayed quiet, mostly just watching, and Lucifer listened too. Now that they were together it was easy to see how much Dawn looked like Gabriel. Not in vessels, though Dawn’s hair was the same colour. It was more in their True forms—Dawn had one, but it was developing more slowly than her physical form. But Lucifer could still see his daughter’s tiny wings with the same puffy feathers at the edge of her wings as her uncle, and she sparkled the same way Gabriel did whenever they laughed.

            Rowena did relax eventually, and when it was time for dessert—chocolate cake, at Gabriel’s insistence, though to be fair he did snap it up—she poured tea for them all and started to ask questions about Lucifer’s childhood as well. Gabriel was smiling at her, and unbeknownst to Rowena, their wings touched enough for Lucifer to hear Gabriel say, _you picked a great woman._

After dinner, Rowena took Dawn upstairs for a much-needed bath (somehow Nephilim children attracted kinds of dirt that snapping couldn’t fix), and Lucifer took Gabriel out to his garden. Every kind of rose he could find grew in the rich soil, and he’d even included some honeysuckle in memory of Gabriel. Rowena had her garden for witching, and Dawn had thrown handfuls of different seeds into her patch, creating a strange and wonderful pattern of different plants.

            “You’ve changed, brother.”

            Lucifer looked at Gabriel. “I hope for the better.”

            “We all had our flaws.” Gabriel looked down. “I hated confrontation, Michael was always so sure he was right, and Raphael was too ruthless. And you…you were proud.”

            “And I Fell for it. Twice.”

            “But now…I think you’ve faced that flaw and beaten it, Luci. And now that you are humble, you have so much to be proud of.”

            Lucifer hugged Gabriel hard. “Thank you,” he whispered, and he let himself cry once more, even though it was a human thing.

            Tears of joy were a decent human invention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!  
> Well, it's fitting that I've posted the last chapter a day late--my apologies for that.   
> I hope you've all enjoyed this romp; while I don't think the Lucifer since season 12 aired has shown to be capable of this, that's the writer's interpretation of a character who has been inconsistent from the beginning. I like the idea that characters can grow, and while even here Lucifer hasn't finished growing, he will eventually find peace and forgiveness through his desire to be better.   
> Oh, and now I can finally share a piece of trivia: this story's original title was "The Devil's Midlife Crisis", which I liked but I thought it would give the twist away too easily.   
> If you're interested in more SPN fanfiction from me, just hang on for a week--for more details, check out my Tumblr, @illuminating-dragons, I'm going to post a quick "Future Plan" there shortly.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
